Collide
by Soul Bound 8686
Summary: I’ve just stripped myself naked in front of you, for you, and you’ve thrown it back in my face. And you want me to do it again, when I don’t have alcohol to soften the blow? I’m not making any promises, Granger.' M for language,violence,sex
1. Not Enough Room

**A/N November the 27th, 2006 – In response to many reviews and PMs asking me to clarify the status of this fic, it is still a work in progress. No, I am not done. Yes, I intend to finish it. Yes, I will be updating in the near future. Thank you all for the interest and to those of you just starting out for the first time, I hope you enjoy it!**

Hermione had been ecstatic when her letter from Hogwarts came, informing her that she would be Head Girl. She had spent the last month of the summer happily wondering who would be made Head Boy. She'd rolled over the possibilities in her mind, considering Tony Goldstein, Harry Potter himself, even Ron Weasley, before finally deciding that Ernie Macmillan had the best chance. She'd boarded the train back to Hogwarts eager, excited, and slightly nervous for her final year at Hogwarts and what being Head Girl would mean.

And now, here she was, ready to plunge ahead.

She strolled to the Head compartment of the train expecting to open the door and find Ernie grinning at her, ready to congratulate her on getting the Head Girl position. Instead she opened the door to find none other than Draco Malfoy, pompous git and snob extraordinaire, sneering at her. She instantly froze and glared back at him.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Hermione snarled. She slid the door closed behind her forcefully.

Malfoy leaned back comfortably in his chair and continued to sneer at her. He stretched his legs out and rested his feet on the soft bench across from him.

Hermione glared even harder as his feet usurped her seat.

"Move your feet and tell me what the hell you're doing in the Head Compartment, Malfoy."

"Language, Granger," Malfoy taunted. "I don't believe I will move my feet. I'm quite comfortable where I am, even considering your foul Mudblood stench is assaulting my nostrils."

Hermione's eyes flared as her jaw tightened. She pushed his feet aside roughly and sat down across from him. The Draco Malfoy she'd known for six years surfaced as she had predicted he would.

"Get your filthy hands off me, Mudblood!" he spat, his body stiffening.

Hermione had never been afraid of him; she'd never let herself be intimidated by him and she wasn't about to start. She glared evenly at him and ignored his last insult.

"Are you going to tell me what you are doing here or am I going to have to hex you?" she asked coldly.

"You wouldn't dare," he growled.

"Try me," she escalated loudly.

"Well, children," a voice said from bedside them.

Both of them froze. Neither had noticed Professor McGonagall enter the compartment.

"Please tell me that Professor Dumbledore hasn't made the wrong decision in choosing the two of you as Heads. I'd hate to think of reassigning the positions because you two couldn't control your tempers."

Hermione stared at her and then registered what she'd said. _Heads? As in plural?_

She turned her stare toward Draco who was smirking, and her mouth fell open.

"_He's _Head Boy?" she hissed in disbelief.

"That's right, Granger," Draco said smoothly, icy as ever. "Took you long enough."

"But, Professor -"Hermione started, trying to think of something to say to Professor McGonagall that would convey the sheer horror she felt.

"Miss Granger," said her teacher, "Mr. Malfoy has been given the position of Head Boy as you have been given the position of Head Girl. You have both earned it. Please display the maturity that the Headmaster trusts you to possess."

Malfoy smirked unkindly at this and McGonagall turned sharply to him. "The same goes for you, Mr. Malfoy. You have both been given the assignment fairly. We are trusting you to put your differences aside long enough to do your duties this year. Professor Dumbledore has faith that you will succeed at this, making this a wonderful and worthwhile year for yourselves and your fellow students."

Hermione resisted the urge to tell McGonagall that she was insane, the qualities that had earned her Head Girl pulling rank on her anger. She stuffed down her pride and smiled. "I'll do my best, Professor."

"I'm sure you will, Miss Granger," McGonagall answered confidently. She handed them both a small packet of papers and spoke again. "I've just given you your patrolling schedules, list of duties, rules you will adhere to and the names of this year's prefects. You will agree on a time to meet with the prefects and assign them their duties. Everything you will need is in your hands. I suggest you study it."

Hermione looked down and thumbed through the papers in her hands, eager to read through them, and then looked back at her teacher.

"Again," continued McGonagall, "I am registering my deepest hope that the two of you will be able to put your childish differences behind you and work as a team."

Hermione smiled up as McGonagall left. She almost forgot who was still sharing her compartment until she heard Malfoy's voice again, jolting her up from her reading.

"Brownnoser," he sneered.

Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Were you even listening, Malfoy? I don't like this any better than you do, but if we're going to spend the year in close proximity to each other, maybe we should listen to her."

At this, Malfoy scoffed. "No fucking way, Granger. We may be stuck in this, but there is no chance you will ever be anything but a brownnosing Mudblood to me."

"You make me sick, Malfoy," fumed Hermione. "You are arrogant, snobby, bigoted and ugly. You stay away from me. Don't look at me, talk to me, or touch me unless it's necessary for our duties."

"Like I'd ever want to make myself filthy by touching you," Malfoy said sarcastically. "You, on the other hand, I'm sure, will have a hard time keeping your hands off me." With this, he gave a wickedly suggestive smirk that made Hermione's blood boil. "You know," he continued, "this means we'll be sharing a dormitory. You'll lie awake at night wishing I would come to you and do erotic things to your body, and I'll lie awake wishing you were any other girl in the school so that I'd want to. It hardly seems fair, does it?"

Hermione snorted disgustedly as Malfoy titled his head confidently. "In your dreams, Malfoy," she said defiantly, grinding her teeth.

"On the contrary, Granger, in _your_ dreams."

Malfoy stood up quickly and walked out of the compartment, no doubt headed to join his pack of piggish Slytherin friends, leaving Hermione livid in her seat.

Hermione left shortly thereafter to join her friends. When she reached their compartment, Ron, Harry, Ginny, Luna and Neville greeted her, all wanting to know who her counterpart would be.

"You are _not_ going to believe this," Hermione said darkly, plopping down next to Luna and Neville.

"Who is it, Hermione?" asked Harry.

"Yeah, tell us!" echoed Ginny.

"Is it Ernie?" asked Neville excitedly.

Hermione looked around for a moment before dropping the bomb. "It's Malfoy."

There was a horrified silence until Ron broke it. "_What?" _he gasped.  
_  
_"You heard me, Ron," muttered Hermione irritably, "Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

"Oh _fuck_."

"_Ron!"_ shouted three upset female voices simultaneously.

"What?" he asked with a shrug.

"He's not worth it, Ron. Don't lower yourself to his level," chided Ginny.

Hermione and Luna nodded their concurrence.

"He's going to make our life a living hell," groaned Neville.

"No, he won't," said Hermione firmly, "I'm still Head Girl. I have the same power he has."

"Yeah," said Harry. "But you're not an obnoxious arsehole."

Ron and Neville nodded in agreement.

Hermione chuckled darkly. "Oh, don't worry. I'll keep an eye on him. A _very_ close eye on him. I'm not about to let him ruin this year for any of us."

This topic of conversation went on for a while until everyone grew tired of abusing Malfoy. Granted, this took rather a long while, but by the time they were done discussing it and everything else they could think of, and Hermione had read through her Head packet several times, it was dark outside, and time for everyone to change into their school robes.

When the students reached the grand Castle, there was an excitement buzzing that was typical of the first night back. Everyone arrived at the feast starving and eager. The sorting went by quickly and before long, the feast was over and everyone was filing off toward his or her dormitories peacefully, stuffed with food.

Hermione had already received instructions on where to go to find her new quarters. She found her new rooms easily and gave the password to enter. C_ooperation._

The Head Suites were impressive. A medium sized study was the common room. It had two desks close to each other on the opposite wall, a large couch, two comfortable looking armchairs, two partially filled bookshelves - which Hermione would have overflowing in no time, and a very nice coffee table with two posh looking wooden chairs at either end. It was obvious that whoever had designed this room wanted its two occupants to be comfortable and to spend a lot of time together in it. Hermione snorted. _Fat chance of that_.

There were three plain wooden doors against the right wall. The first lead to Hermione's new bedroom, the middle to the bathroom, and the last to the Head Boy's room – Draco's room. She walked into her room and looked around. It was a lot bigger than her room in Gryffindor Tower. Actually it wasn't, but it only had one large bed, as apposed to three, and there was a lot more space. Hermione could look out the window and see the lake. She was looking forward to decorating it the way she wanted.

She walked back out to inspect the common room more closely and at that same moment, Draco burst through the portrait hole imperiously. His sudden entrance startled her back to reality and she glowered at him. Draco spared only a moment to glance around the room, taking it in before he advanced on Hermione.

"You will stay out of my room and away from my things. Is that clear?" he asked commandingly.

She narrowed her eyes and said, "The same goes for you, Malfoy."

Malfoy chuckled meanly. "You have nothing I want."

"Likewise!" snapped Hermione.

"You just keep telling yourself that."

Hermione rolled her eyes and began to walk to her room. "You really do disgust me," she said coldly.

"Get out of my way, Granger!" growled Malfoy. She stumbled sideways as he pushed past her and walked into his bedroom.

The common room was a decent size, especially for two people, but Hermione knew it wasn't going to be big enough - not nearly. Draco slammed his door behind him and Hermione plopped herself down on the large, flower printed couch in the middle of the room. She let out a deep sigh and closed her eyes.

This was going to be hell.

**More A/N - I'm in the process of having each chapter beta'd so that I can submit the story to Sycophant Hex, something I hadn't done before. So if there are any mistakes or inconsistencies in later chapters, bare with me – they will be fixed soon.**

**Reviews are always appreciated!**


	2. The Dragon's Lair

"I'm still not sure this is a good idea, Albus," muttered Minerva McGonagall crossly. "You should have seen them in that compartment, I thought they were going to rip each other apart!"

The two elderly magicians sat in Dumbledore's office as the first night back at Hogwarts died away. Dumbledore chuckled.

"You think this is funny?" asked McGonagall sharply.

"Our two Head Students do seem to have rather a…passion for each other, don't they?" he commented, smiling pleasantly.

McGonagall snorted. "Is that what you call it, Albus? Honestly, I'll be surprised if one of them doesn't die at the hands of the other by the end of September!"

"I think we'll all be surprised, Minerva," Dumbledore chuckled. "But they both have good hearts." At this, McGonagall raised an eyebrow - "I believe the time they spend together will be good for both of them." Noticing the look on his Deputy Headmistress' face, Dumbledore chuckled again. "Yes, Draco has a good heart, deep down. And now, with Lucius gone, I think we have a chance here to help him find it. That's partly why I've put him with Miss Granger."

"But, he hates Hermione!" said McGonagall, shaking her head confusedly.

"I suppose we'll have to see about that," Dumbledore replied softly, his eyes twinkling.

This was unbelievable.

Draco brooded angrily to himself, once alone in his new room. He finally had it all. He'd wanted the Head position ever since he first arrived at Hogwarts. He'd wanted to look in the mirror and see the badge pinned to his robe. He wanted to have the power to tell all the other students to do whatever he wanted. And now he had it. But once again, one of the Heroic Trio stood in his way, ruining it. They seemed to love nothing more than stealing his thunder. It just figured that Hermione Granger would be made Head Girl. Draco glared at the wall that separated his room from the common room, knowing Hermione was still out there, as if glaring could make her shrivel up.

He sighed bitterly and fell back into his bed. This was at least a bonus. It was nothing compared to his room at home at the Manor, but it was a far cry better than the dorm he shared in the Slytherin dungeon. There was more room, the bed was larger and nicer, and he could do whatever he wanted without being interrupted.

As much as it bothered him to admit it, it felt good to be back at school. It felt like coming home. His father was dead now, so the Manor belonged to him, but this place, Hogwarts, was more of a home to him than the Manor had ever been. He'd thought it would have caused him much more pain when his father was killed, but in an odd way it was freeing. He didn't have to worry about Lucius pushing him into the open arms of the Dark Lord anymore. That had never truly been the life he'd wanted. What pained him most was watching his mother suffer. She had truly loved his father as his father had never loved him. Narcissa Malfoy was a wreck these days, and Draco knew it. She had taken her husband's death hard, blaming her self for no explainable reason.

Draco lay in bed now and tried to focus on the present. He looked around the room and thought of things he'd like to fill it with. He'd made a marvelous discovery over the summer in the form of a 'DVD Player.' This was another reason he was glad to have this room to himself. He would sooner eat his own fist than let anyone see him with a Muggle entertainment set-up in his room. The more he learned about the Muggle world, the more he grew annoyed with himself, for he couldn't help but be impressed by their originality. Who'd have thought that staring at a screen for close to two hours could be enjoyable?

He hoped he could figure a way to get around his newly acquired electronics malfunctioning in the castle.

His mind was again drawn back to the matter of his counterpart, Hermione Granger. He couldn't honestly tell himself that he was surprised the she had attained the position. She had the marks and, as much as he despised to admit it, the brains for the job. There was really nobody else for it. This annoyed him very much. He couldn't stand Hermione and her little sidekicks. Everyone thought that Harry was the ringleader of the Trio, but Draco knew better. Hermione was the brains behind the outfit, Harry the brawn and Ron the useless idiot who had somehow managed to keep a place between the other two.

Draco stewed in his room for several minutes before deciding to take a bath. If he'd ever needed to relax, now was the time. He opened the other door in his room that lead into the joint bathroom and walked in. Nice. A large standing shower jutted out from the opposite wall and an impressive Jacuzzi tub sat against the wall beside him. He turned the faucets on and ran his fingers underneath the flow, testing the temperature. When it was just right he pulled the plug up and began to undress. He looked over at Hermione's door and stopped himself. He was glad to see that he could lock her door from inside this room. He walked over and did just that. The last thing he needed was the Mudblood walking in on him when he was trying to relax. He stripped all the way down and stepped into the bath. The water was comfortably warm and as he relaxed into it, he felt his frustrations melt away.

In the morning, his body woke itself up at the crack of dawn, as usual, and lied in bed for a while, adjusting himself into wakefulness. After what was probably half an hour, he rose and went to the window, yawning. It was Saturday and he knew he had the day to do whatever he wanted. He grabbed a simple grey t-shirt out of his drawer and pulled it on. He walked out of his room and into the study to find Hermione already there. He groaned inwardly, but he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of knowing she was already ruining his day.

Hermione barely glanced up before continuing to read the paper. Apparently, she was a subscriber to the early morning Prophet. She had a bagel in one hand and the paper in the other. She was leaning back in one of the coffee table chairs, her legs scrunched up against her, her feet resting in the edge of the table lightly.

"Get your feet off the table, Granger," he said irritably. She didn't look at him, but obeyed.

As she moved her legs he realized just exactly what she was wearing - very high cut plaid patterned cotton shorts and a very low cut black tank top. Her legs were toned and evenly tanned. Her shorts rode low on her hips and he could see a small strip of her sides and back as she bent forward to readjust herself. Even Draco couldn't deny that the summer had been good to her.

As she leaned back again, straightening the paper to continue reading, Draco couldn't stop himself from looking at her upper body. Her breasts weren't gigantic, but they weren't tiny either. They fit her curves and he could see the outline of them through her tank top. He wondered if she had always looked like this under her robes or if this was a new thing. Draco realized he was staring and jerked his eyes away. He shouldn't be looking at her at all, let alone looking at her and being turned on. He put his face right again then crossed the room and sat down across from her. The only way out of this was to compensate by showing her who was in charge.

"All right, Granger," he almost snarled, "let's get a few things straight."

He fully intended to tell her exactly how it was going to be around here - That she would stay out of the study in the mornings until he has gone, that she would wait for her turn in the bathroom, and that under no circumstances would she have either of her pals over for a visit. But when she looked up at him he forgot what he was going to say. Instead, he noticed how her morning hair looked pulled up into a messy bun on top of her head. How long had she had soft curls instead of frizz? She rolled her eyes at him and her head moved slightly. A few small strands of curly chocolate coloured hair fell over her face. He resisted the urge to reach forward and tuck one behind her ear. He also couldn't help noticing just how brown her eyes were and how bright they looked in the morning light. What was _wrong_ with him?

"Not now, Malfoy. I'm getting in the shower," she said in a bored tone.

He was speechless. She got up and walked away toward the bathroom door and Draco's eyes followed her. Her hips swayed ever so slightly as she walked. She raised her arms above her head in a yawn as she walked and her top hitched up a bit, giving him a glance of the gently indented small of her back. Then she disappeared behind the door and Draco was left to stare blankly ahead, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened to him.

This was bad.

-

Twenty minutes later, Hermione emerged from her own room, fully clothed in weekend attire with her hair in a simple braid that fell to the middle of her back. She wanted to look through the books in the study before she started her day. She walked by Draco, who was curiously staring hard at the floor instead of taking advantage of this obvious opportunity to verbally abuse her. If he was going to ignore her, Hermione had no problem with it. It would be a vast improvement from having to sit through his usual arrogant diatribe.

She walked over to the bookcase by the window closest to her bedroom and ran her fingers over bindings, looking closely at the titles. She grinned vastly as she realized that this bookcase was made of her favourite titles. Someone knew exactly what she loved and had put it here for her. Austen, Shakespeare, Crichton, Bronte, Frost, Tolkein, Herbert…they were all here. She pulled out her favourite book in the whole world and went over to her armchair. She curled up and immediately opened it to chapter one.

-

More than twenty minutes later, Draco emerged from his room, fully clothed in weekend attire. It had only taken him a few minutes to shower, but he had spent several before them trying to drive from his brain the faint smell of sweet raspberries he'd breathed in when Hermione had walked by after her shower.

He didn't immediately see Hermione, as her body was mostly hidden behind the chair she was sitting in. In his hand were the papers McGonagall had given him on the train. He walked over to sit in his armchair to peruse them and was startled to find Hermione already in hers, curled up with a rather thick book. He didn't recognize the title, not that it mattered…

"Merlin, Granger!" he breathed loudly. "You can't startle me like that!"

Hermione looked up at him contemptuously, then rolled her eyes and went back to her book, ignoring him. He sat down in his chair, which was tilted toward hers, and looked down at his papers. Several minutes passed, Draco reading his 'rules of conduct' and Hermione quickly devouring her favourite novel. Neither noticed the other until Hermione shifted in her chair and Draco saw a bit of her side when her shirt moved before it was covered again. He stared ahead blankly, the events of that morning rolling back into his thoughts. He was annoyed with her for putting them there and angry with himself for allowing them to be there.

"Granger!" he snapped.

Hermione jumped and glared at him. That was more like it.

He smirked and held up the papers in his hand. "McGonagall said we should look these over."

"I already did," she muttered distractedly before going back to her book, clearly not interested in arguing or even talking to him.

He scowled. He wanted her to get angry, fight back; take his bait so that he could snarl at her in peace without worrying what she smelled like or just exactly what colour her hair was in the light. But she didn't seem willing or interested in doing anything of the sort.

Draco was forced to scowl even more. He was irritated that anything could be more important than arguing with him. His eyes flew resentfully to the culprit, Hermione's book. He read the title again and was reluctantly intrigued.

"What the hell is that thing, anyway?" he muttered, nodding his head at her challengingly.

She didn't even look up. "It's called a book, Malfoy," she replied coolly.

He'd set himself up for that one…

"You don't say," he said sarcastically. "Let me see that thing." He reached forward and snatched the book out of her hands.

"Hey!" she yelled in protest, rising out of her chair.

_That did it_…Draco thought to himself with a smug smile.

"_Dune_…by Frank Herbert," he said, holding it out of her reach.

"It's a Muggle book," she snapped angrily, "You wouldn't understand."

"Don't tell me what I would and wouldn't understand, Granger!" he snarled, still holding it out of her reach.

She stood with her hands on her hips, fuming. She was annoyingly cute.

"Give it back," she demanded.

"No," he replied smugly.

"Give it back," she repeated icily.

"Make me," he taunted.

After a pause, Hermione took him at his word and lunged for him. He barely had time to move before he toppled back into his chair and she was on top of him, snatching wildly at his hands.

He smelled raspberries again.

They wrestled around for a moment before Draco started laughing. He meant it to be a mean, taunting laugh but it sounded more like what it really meant, that he was pleasantly enjoying himself.

He hoped this would goad Hermione even further but instead he looked into her face and saw that she was grinning. Their eyes met and they both slowly stopped moving. Neither of them blinked and Draco was suddenly aware of his breathing. Hermione had stopped grabbing for her book and was now resting her hands on his shoulders, kneeling on his lap.

She was so close…

Draco stopped thinking. He was staring into her eyes thrillingly and noticing the beginnings of a tightening in his groin when she put a stop to it.

Hermione slipped herself hastily off his chair and straightened her clothes. She cleared her throat quickly and said, "Keep it."

She turned away and hurried out of their common room, no doubt to spend the day with her friends.

Draco was left to berate himself.

-

Hermione hurried down the hall, not even knowing which direction she was headed in. She just had to get away from the scene that had just taken place.

What the hell had just happened?

One minute she had been irate with Draco for stealing her book, and the next, she had practically tackled him. What was even more confusing was that he had let her do it, no, encouraged her to do it! When she was sitting there on his lap he didn't call her filthy, or a Mudblood, or any other foul word. He hadn't pushed her off roughly, insisting that he would catch whatever disease she inherently carried. She was trying to make sense of the look he'd had in his eyes and just exactly why she'd found herself speechless, when Harry and Ron came around the corner, obviously headed to the great hall for breakfast.

"Hermione!" Ron greeted her enthusiastically, "How was your first night in the Dragon's Lair?"

"Shut up, Ron," she snapped. The last thing she needed right now was to be reminded that she shared living quarters with Draco Malfoy, especially after she'd practically just…

"Hey, Hermione," said Ginny brightly, joining them as they reached the doors to the Great Hall.

Hermione smiled back at Ginny, glad of the excuse to push Draco's fierce grey eyes from her mind. The four of them plopped down next to Neville at the table and dug into their food.

* * *

**A/N - Yes, this chapter had some D/Hr fluff. Will it happen again? Yes  
Soon? No.  
Enjoy it while it lasts…  
And REVIEW! **


	3. Walls and Bars

**Collide  
Chapter Three  
Walls And Bars  
**

Draco Malfoy strutted down the hall moodily, brooding about the fact that he was feeling. The thoughts running through his head couldn't have been more unwelcome. Here he was, wanting nothing more than to cling to the principles he'd known his entire life, and one glance at the mudblood witch in her sleeping attire threatened to rip him away from all of that. He wanted to hate her in peace. But presently, all he could think about was the way his heart had sped up when Hermione had tackled him.

He pushed open the doors to the Great Hall almost violently and stalked over to the Slytherin table, not even glancing around. He plopped down next to Vincent Crabbe and stared straight ahead, his eyes narrowed.

"Hey, Draco," said Vince through a mouthful of toast.

Draco grunted in acknowledgement and continued staring. His mind was uncomfortably crowded.

"Hey lover…" said a flirty voice from his other side.

He turned scowling to find Pansy Parkinson's dark features staring avidly at him.

"I told you not to call me that, Pansy…" Draco grumbled irritably. "Especially not in public."

"No one heard me," she whispered, grabbing hold of his arm. God, she was so obvious.

Draco rolled his eyes and looked around the room reluctantly. His eyes fell upon the Gryffindor table, specifically on Granger and the gofers she called friends. He scowled again, shaking Pansy's arm loose.

"So how is your new dorm, Draco?" Pansy asked, her voice dripping with sugar. "I can't believe that mudblood slag got Head Girl." Her voice took a vicious tone as she continued. "It must be hell to know she's that close to you all the time, huh?"

"Tell me about it…" Draco muttered grumpily.

"I know what you need," whispered Pansy, a little too close to Draco's ear for comfort. She slipped her fingers up his thigh and just then something happened that distracted him from whatever Pansy had planned.

-

It was surprisingly easy to push the scene with Draco from her mind. Only moments after she sat down, she was laughing with her friends and enjoying a full breakfast.

"Seriously, Hermione," Ron said. "Is it okay up there?"

Hermione looked patiently at Ron. She didn't really want to talk to him about it, but she didn't want to be rude.

"Yeah, Ron. It's not a big deal. I can handle him."

"Yeah…" Ron muttered darkly. "Or he'll handle you."

Hermione rolled her eyes at nothing.

"I just – I want you to be careful, okay?" Ron said tentatively. 

Hermione sighed and decided to ignore Ron. Honestly, she knew he was right. Draco Malfoy was no one to be trifled with, but she didn't want to admit to Ron that he was right.

"Hermione, are you listening to me?"

"Yes I'm listening, Ron," she snapped.

Ron reached across the table and took hold of her hand.

Hermione jumped, startled. She looked at her hand almost perplexedly and wondered why it was in Ron's. Before she had time to think, Ron was leaning across the table and then…

She didn't even have time to react. Ron's lips were on hers, almost smothering her. She hadn't even closed her eyes. She was acutely aware of the dreadful silence that had fallen around her.

A crash from the other side of the dining hall made her jump about a foot. She was vaguely aware that something was going on at the Slytherin table. But she was currently more concerned with what was going on in front of her. What the hell had just happened…?

_Ron just kissed me. Why did Ron just kiss me? In front of everyone…bugger._

Hermione's mouth fell open as she looked at Ron, wide eyed. She glanced around in trepidation for a moment and found Harry and Ginny looking dumbfounded. Ginny recovered first.

"Ron!" she snapped.

Hermione found her voice and said, "Why did you do that?"

Ron looked just as surprised as the rest of them. "I don't know…" he breathed. "I just, wanted to."

A million things were going through Hermione's brain and for once, she couldn't think fast enough to sort them all out.

_Ron kissed me…why now?  
Why not a year ago?  
Why in front of everyone?  
I wish they would stop staring.  
Please, stop staring. _

_Just…talk amongst yourselves. _

_Leave me alone._

Hell.

Hermione cleared her throat and quickly grabbed Ron's hand and pulled him up.

"Come on…" she muttered, not daring to look around. Ron obeyed her and the two of them walked out the doors quickly, Hermione feeling like she couldn't breath and couldn't move fast enough.

She walked quickly down the hall and out the front doors onto the lawn, and then turned to Ron. Her first instinct was to be angry. She wanted to yell, "_What the hell was that_?" But she controlled herself.

"Explain," she said surprisingly calmly.

Ron gaped at her for a moment then said, "Hermione…I don't know why I did that."

Wrong answer.

She wanted Ron to either want her or not. Not knowing was not good enough.

"You don't get to do that, Ron," she spat.

The truth was – if the kiss hadn't been so rushed and surprising, it might have been nice. 

She'd spent a long time wondering what kissing Ron would be like. But never in any of her daydreams had she pictured that he would just, come at her out of nowhere. It was all wrong. He'd ruined it by being…Ron.

"Do you know how long I've been waiting for that?" she said, glaring at him. "And then you just blow it in the middle of the great hall, with everyone staring."

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I didn't mean to…I just…" He came closer and said, "Let me try again."

She wanted to tell him to sod off, but a large part of her was curious.

"Okay," she said, after a long silence.

Ron didn't need to be told twice. He moved in and put his arms around her waist. She just stood there, waiting. He put his lips gently on hers, lightly testing her. When she didn't push him away he slipped his tongue inside her mouth and commenced exploration.

This was more like what she'd pictured.

"I've wanted you for so long, Hermione," Ron whispered, then continued to kiss her, his hands moving up to her hair.

She'd wanted him too. She'd wanted him since their second year, even though she hadn't admitted it to herself until about a year ago. But did she want him now? She focused on the kiss.

It wasn't uncomfortable. In fact, it was the opposite. It was…comfortable. It felt normal, like anything else felt. She had expected to feel something different, something…more. She focused on her stomach and realized she didn't feel it flipping. She focused on her head and realized that she couldn't hear blood rushing in her ears. She didn't feel short of breath. She didn't feel any tingling. These were all things she thought she'd feel.

As it was, she felt…nothing…at all.

She pulled away and looked into Ron's eyes.

"So?" he asked breathlessly.

"Ron…" She looked at him and knew she couldn't lie. "It just not…there."

Ron looked away quickly, his jaw clenching. Then he looked back at her with a plea in his eyes.

"Don't say that, Hermione. It _is_ there," he insisted.

"Not for me…Ron," she said, knowing and hating that she was hurting him. "I'm sorry. You're the best friend I've ever had. I don't want to hurt you."

Ron flinched as she said 'friend' and glared at the ground.

"Too late, Hermione."

Ron turned and walked away. This was not how she'd wanted it.

"Ron!" she yelled after him. He quickened his pace.

"Ron!" she yelled again.

"Just leave me alone, Hermione…" she heard him say callously.

"Ron!" she cried pleadingly. "Please try to understand!"

Ron disappeared behind the doors and Hermione gave up following him. She sank down heavily onto the front steps and began to cry.

_I just lost my best friend._

-

_What the bloody fuck! _

Draco stood up violently, knocking several dishes off the table in front of him. They crashed loudly to the flood but Draco didn't notice. Pansy jumped aside in shock. No doubt she figured he was reacting to the hand she had been sliding up his thigh.

She moved to touch him again but he shrugged her off absently. His attention was entirely on what was going on about twenty feet away at the Gryffindor table.

The Weasel had his foul lips on Granger.

Draco didn't even have time to berate himself for the misplaced anger welling up inside of him. If he had been thinking clearly he would have told himself to look away and stop thinking about the stupid Mudblood. She wasn't worthy of his thoughts and more than Weasley was worthy of her lips…what?

_Push him off…slap his ugly face._

He silently commanded, no, begged. Granger pulled away, looking flustered and Draco felt a triumphant smile cross his face. It all happened so fast. Just as Draco felt a little calm returning to him, he saw Granger take the Weasel's hand. Draco's face tightened at this and quickly turned to a scowl as Granger stood up and walked out of the hall, pulling Weasley after her.

He couldn't stop himself. He followed. He walked out the doors of the Great Hall and saw Weasley disappear out the doors to the grounds. He felt his feet moving and wondered what in the Devil's hell had control over him. He certainly didn't.

He stopped in front of the window next to the door and watched as Weasley and Granger argued. Then very suddenly he kissed her again. She didn't push him away. She didn't slap him. Draco felt blood rush to his face. His eyes narrowed as he turned and walked down the hall, wringing his hands in disgust at himself and the situation.

What the hell was wrong with him? Following a Mudblood. _Wanting _a Mudblood, if that was what you could call it. And not just _any_ Mudblood. _Granger. Hermione fucking Granger._ He hated Hermione Granger. He hated everything about her from her bushy hair to the way her hand automatically shot into the air like a fucking roman candle every time she was asked a question. He hated the way she walked. He hated that she wasn't afraid of him. He hated her sidekicks, and he hated himself for forgetting all those things for even a moment.

And on top of that, she was snogging Ron Weasley.

_Ron Weasley. Publicly!_

Well they deserved each other. The Mudblood and Blood Traitor. Draco scoffed loudly, shaking his head.

As he strode down the hall to his first class, the walls that had surrounded Draco Malfoy for seventeen years rebuilt themselves, stronger than ever. The bars that he had situated to protect himself snapped back into place. He was a rock. He always had been and he always would be.

No Mudblood girl was going to change that, no matter how much her eyes sparkled when she laughed.


	4. The Weight of One Word

**Collide  
Chapter Four  
The Weight of One Word**

Hermione sat on the front steps of the castle and cried for several minutes, before finally realizing she needed to get to class. In perfect Hermione form, she straightened up and controlled herself. She wiped her face clean of tears and put on a solid expression. The only things left that might give her away were her puffy eyes and scratchy voice.

She walked back into the Great Hall and grabbed her book bag, which was still sitting on the bench next to her where she'd left it. A few minutes later she walked in the door to Transfiguration and went to her seat. She plopped down next to Harry and sighed quietly. Harry had a worried expression on his face but she pretended not to notice. After a few minutes of this, Harry gave up and began staring at the door. Ron still hadn't shown up.

As it turned out, Ron didn't show up at all. Hermione didn't know what to do about him. Part of her wanted to scream at him and tell him how stupid he was and part of her wanted to run to him and cry in his arms until he understood. It was such a mess.

Hermione stared at her hands and felt tears welling up in her eyes. It stung horribly the more she tried to fight them. Her face remained expressionless as tears spilled over her lower lids and down her face. But she kept her breathing even and quiet. Nobody had to see this.

"Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall's stern voice.

Hermione looked up, startled.

When McGonnagal saw Hermione's face, a look of concern swept over her own.

"Are you all right, Miss Granger?"

God, how awful. This was all she needed, attention drawn to her.

"I'm fine," she answered tonelessly. She heard a rasp in her voice and hoped nobody else had. She reached up and wiped as many tears from her face as she could in one motion and stared straight ahead. For the second time in the last hour she felt a silence and wished someone would fill it.

Harry came to her rescue.

"So, what's in store for us this year?"

McGonagall followed his lead and said, "This year is going to be very difficult, Mr. Potter. I can only hope that all of you are up to it," - McGonagall looked the room over, as though appraising the group – "I'll be pairing you up this year. Most of your assignments will be practicing human transfiguration and obviously, it's safer to have a partner."

At this, the rest of the class began to talk amongst themselves quietly, no doubt discussing why exactly having a partner would be 'safer.'

Hermione was glad the silence was broken. She let out a shaky sigh that was only noticed by Harry.

"That will be quite enough talking," said Professor McGonagall shortly. 

The class fell silent.

"This year the partners will be as follows:" She began to read names in pairs off a parchment.

"Weasley - Parkinson."

An indignant female snort was heard from the back of the classroom. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Thomas – Goyle" - More snorting.

"Finnegan – Bullstrode"

"Patil – Longbottom"

"Brown – Crabbe"

"Zabini – Potter"

That left…

"Granger – Malfoy."

Hermione froze.

_Oh God… _

She turned around and fixed her eyes on Malfoy, who looked absolutely poisonous. He gave a look that said, 'drop dead.' And she returned it.

She faced forward again and slumped in her seat. Harry patted her on the back and took this opportunity to ask her where Ron was.

She told him what had happened, leaving out the finer details and finished by saying, "Will you talk to him, Harry? He's really upset and I don't know what to do."

"Don't worry about it Hermione. He'll get over it."

Hermione wasn't sure how she felt about that…

"Splendid," barked Professor McGonagall. "Pair up."

Hermione didn't think there was anything in world she'd rather do _less._

She sighed again and stood up. Harry gave her another sympathetic look and said, "Good luck."

"You too…" she mumbled as she walked to the back of the room towards Malfoy, resigned to the worst.

-

Draco settled himself down in the back of the room with his arms crossed and his face set in a scowl.

"What's with you?" Zabini said blankly.

"Piss off, Blaise," he muttered irritably.

He stared straight ahead for several long minutes, waiting for the bell to ring and class to begin. After a while the door opened and Granger walked in. Draco looked away quickly and examined his fingernails.

Stupid Mudblood and her precious Pothead…She was probably up there day-dreaming about Weasley's tongue in her mouth.

"Miss Granger."

Draco's head snapped up. He noticed Hermione's did the same.

"Are you all right?"

Why the hell was McGonnagal asking that?

"I'm fine," he heard Hermione answer.

His body stiffened. She'd been crying. He could hear it in her voice. Pansy sniggered next to him. She'd obviously noticed too.

Several minutes went by. Draco listened halfheartedly to what McGonagall was saying about pairs. He wondered vaguely who his would be. And then she began to read names.

He listened as Pansy's snigger turned into an angry sneer when it was announced she would be the Weasel's partner. Draco couldn't blame her.

More names…  
More names.  
And then…

"Granger – Malfoy."

He felt loathing well up inside him and then her eyes met his. He did his very best not to notice how red and puffy they were as he shot daggers at her.

She turned away and he bit hard on his lip.

"I'm sorry, Draco," purred Pansy, "I'll make it better later."

"Shut up, Parkinson," he said, irritated.

"Pair up."

He looked up and saw Hermione walking toward him. Good. At least she had the sense to know he wasn't go to budge an inch to get any closer to her. At least she knew who was in control here.

Pansy got up and headed towards the teacher's desk – Draco could only assume this was to complain about Weasley's truancy, and Weasley in general.

Hermione plopped down next to him, glowering at nothing in particular. She looked how he felt, but all be damned if he would let her know it.

"Looks like this is your lucky day, Granger," Draco jeered. "It's not every day you have a legitimate excuse to get that filthy skin this close to mine."

She turned and glared at him. "You didn't seem to mind my skin so much earlier when it was on top of you."

That was below the belt.

"Fuck you, Granger. You don't know anything," he spat nastily. "You are nothing but an ugly mudblood slag and if you ever touch me like that again, I will hurt you."

"Is that supposed to scare me, Ferret Boy?" she shot back. "You keep your hands off me and my possessions or you'll see just how ugly I can get."

Damn her. Why wouldn't she just cower like a normal mudblood?

Instead she continued her verbal assault.

"Though I'm quite at a loss as to why you would want my book anyway. Aside from it being written by a 'filthy muggle' and belonging to an 'ugly mudblood slag,' I didn't know you knew how to read," she ridiculed.

"Get off your high horse, Granger," he scoffed. "You think you're better than me? The blood in my veins is worth a thousand times more than yours."

He glared at her and she had the audacity to glare back. It was infuriating.

"Oh Lord. Here we go with the Pureblood thing again," - She threw her hands into the air exasperatedly - "Get over yourself Malfoy. You may have noticed that your blood didn't earn you better marks than mine. Your bedroom is not bigger that mine. There is nothing special about you. The only thing you have that I don't is a crush on yourself."

Draco scoffed again. "I have no doubt that I could fit twelve of your house into my Manor, Granger."

"I don't even know how you fit your _ego_ into your 'Manor,'" she said, laughing derisively.

_Merlin he hated her. _

"As much as I hate to break up this display of tenderness, I would appreciate it if the two of you would get on with today's assignment," McGonagall said tartly from above them.

"Sorry Professor…" mumbled Granger.

Draco kept his mouth shut until she was gone and then turned again on Hermione, expecting her to be glaring back fiercely, ready to pick up where they'd left off.

She wasn't. She was staring at the blackboard at the front of the class, copying down instructions.

"Okay…" she mumbled to herself, tracing the wand movements she would need to make in the air.

Draco just stared at her. How dare she ignore him when he wanted to wring her annoying neck?

After a moment he turned and read the instructions too. Fine, if she wanted to play the good girl…

Skimming along…it said they were to practice on each other. Draco grinned evilly. He was going to have an excuse to point his wand at Granger…and if something went wrong, he could call it an accident.

He stood and turned to face her. She looked up, almost daring him to make a move toward her.

"Well if we're practicing on each other…" he said scathingly, grinning, "I'll go first." He reached for his wand.

"Don't," she said menacingly.

There was an astounding amount of weight in that one word when she said it. She stood and faced him, looking fiercely into his eyes.

"I've said it twice now and I'm going to say it one more time. You stay the _fuck_ away from me."

Draco's mouth snapped shut as he watched her turn her back on him. She cast the assigned spell on herself and in one try it was perfect. McGonnagal had seen her do it and gave her a proud smile.

Draco felt physically sick.

Hermione slung her bag over her shoulder and walked out of the classroom without so much as a backward glance.


	5. Losing Control

The rest of the day passed by uneventfully for Draco. Every time he saw Hermione, she looked like she had a fire burning inside her. She stormed about the castle with an attitude almost daring someone to get in her way. Draco had a feeling there was more going on with her than just the hatred she obviously felt towards him – not that he cared.

"So where did you disappear to at breakfast?" asked Blaise casually over dinner.

"That's none of your business, Zabini," Draco replied conversationally.

"You just sort of, walked out. It looked like you'd been bitten by something."

"Sod off," Draco said, scowling.

"Jesus, Draco, I'm just asking…" Blaise muttered, obviously somewhat offended. Even Draco wasn't usually this rude.

"Well don't," he said shortly

"Fine…" Blaise sighed. "Well, at any rate, when are you going to call a Prefects meeting?"

Draco groaned. He'd completely forgotten. It annoyed him very much that the fact that he was Head Boy could slip his mind even for a second. It was all Granger's fault…he thought furiously. Calling a meeting with the Prefects was mandatory, but it would mean he had to speak to Granger.

"Oh," Blaise said. He had just been handed a slip of paper by a hurried looking fourth year. "Looks like Granger beat you to it."

"_What?"_ Draco hissed, yanking the paper out of Zabini's hands.

'_The first prefects meeting of this year will be held in classroom 24 tomorrow at 8:30 PM.  
-  
Hermione J. Granger'_

She'd even signed her bloody name.

_That is it._

Draco shoved the bench back violently and marched over to the Gryffindor table.

" - Yeah, that's what I was saying," Hermione said to Ginny Weasley. "I just don't know how to put it into wor-"

"Granger!" growled Draco.

"Sod off, Malfoy," she said coldly, not even looking up. She pressed on with her conversation, ignoring him completely. " - Into words. But, it's like, I don't even know how to sort it all -"

"Get up, Granger," Draco ordered maliciously, rolling his eyes. He would have reached forward and yanked her up by the collar but he didn't much fancy getting slapped across the face, or worse.

He didn't have to. Hermione got up from the table silently and walked out into the hall. She turned to face him when they were out of earshot from the rest of the school's population.

"What do you want, ferret boy?" she said frostily, her arms crossed.

"Clever. You called a prefects meeting – without consulting me."

"So?" she said blandly. "What's the problem?"

"The problem, Granger," he said through gritted teeth, "is that I'm Head Boy."

"Yes, that is a problem, isn't it," she said with a smirk.

"Listen, you -"

"I would have thought it would have been a load off your shoulders." There was an annoying smile playing around her mouth.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he spat.

She tapped her foot impatiently. "It means that you get to go off and play with your friends. Don't worry, Malfoy. I wasn't going to actually make you do any _work_. Truth be told, I wasn't expecting much from you at all. Really all you have to do is show up and look pretty." Her tone was so condescending it was making him actually see red.

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Fuck you, Granger," he snarled. She was mocking him, treating him like a child. He wanted to choke her with her own bushy hair. "I can handle ten times what you can."

"That'll be the pure blood in you, I suppose…" she said dryly. "It must give you strength the likes of which the rest of us can only dream."

She was mocking him again.

"Listen, you bitch. If you think I'm going to just 'sit this one out,' you are sorely mistaken. I've been waiting for this for a long time and there is no way in hell I'm going to let you elbow me out."

Hermione sighed. "Fine. You can be whatever you want to be," she said, humoring him. "You can do as much as you like. But, Malfoy, if it gets to be too much for you to handle, or Merlin forbid, you break a nail, you be sure to let me know and I'll take care of it." Her voice was dripping in mock concern. It made him sick.

She turned and walked back into the dining hall, leaving him once again to glare at her head and wish her a most painful death.

-

She hated him. She hated him so much it made her blood boil to look at him. He opened his mouth and she wanted to shove the largest, most foul smelling object she could think of down his throat to shut him up. Although she had to admit, making fun of him and watching his face contort in fury was amazingly satisfying.

A part of her felt slightly guilty. As much as she hated him, she knew she was taking her frustration with Ron out on Malfoy. That was not something she felt good about doing. It was immature and mean, but it was easy. And he did deserve it. He was an arrogant, bigoted prick.

She plopped back into her seat and continued her conversation with Ginny as though nothing had happened.

"Er, what was that about?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Nothing, just Malfoy being Malfoy…I took care of it."

"Oh. Okay," Ginny said, shrugging her shoulders. "So, anyway…"

Hermione had expected Ginny to be angry with her when she told her about what happened with Ron, but surprisingly she had been very understanding. It felt good to know she had a friend.

"I know I really hurt him, Ginny," she said sadly.

"Hermione," Ginny said, shaking her head patiently, "Ron loves you."

Hermione dropped her eyes, feeling guilty.

"No. I mean, what Ron feels for you goes deeper that all this. It's not just romance. His romantic feelings for you come and go. They probably always will. But underneath all that, he loves you like he loves me. He knows you. He'd do anything for you just because you're you," Ginny explained. "This could never be the end of your friendship. You guys, the three of you have been through everything together. Nothing will change that."

Hermione sighed and nodded her head. "I know, you're right. And you know, I love him too. Just not the way he wants me to."

"He doesn't know what he wants," Ginny said. "Just give him time. This will blow over."

"I hope you're right…" Hermione muttered.

"She is right," said Harry pleasantly from beside her. "We're family, Hermione." She wasn't even aware he'd been listening.

Hermione smiled and threw her arms around him. He was right. They were both right. They were family. Maybe that's why it was hurting so much. She felt herself begin to cry again. She felt stupid and began to pull away from Harry but he put his arms around her and let her cry. So she let it all out. A few minutes later Harry's shirt was soaked, but she felt a lot better.

"I'm sorry, Harry…" she muttered sheepishly.

"Don't be," he said simply. "I'll always be here for you, whenever."

"I will too," piped Ginny. "We both will. And I know Ron will too."

Hermione smiled warmly. "Thanks," she whispered.

She was damned lucky and she knew it.

-

Draco stood there in the hall, brooding for a while, then finally decided that he was hungry and the bitch they had the nerve to call Head Girl wasn't going to stop him from finishing his meal. He could picture it now: Granger was sitting at her table, having a good laugh at his expense with her precious friends.

He strode forward and pushed open the doors swiftly.

_Oh, for Fuck's sake!_

Granger was sitting there sobbing on Harry-goddamned-Potter's shoulder. They had their arms wrapped around each other like they were holding on for dear life. Ginny Weasley was staring at them and _smiling_. What the hell was wrong with all of them?

First Weasley, now _Potter_?

Draco felt absolutely sick now. He turned and walked as quickly as possible in the other direction. Before long he was back in his common room, pacing back and forth, fuming.

What business did Granger have blubbering all over the place like that? Showing weakness? As much as he hated to admit it, and as much of a bastard as he knew he was, he couldn't say the things he wanted to say to her while she was crying.

He couldn't stop it from playing in his head, over and over again. Her eyes shut tightly in pain. He face soaked in tears. Her body shaking against Potter's body. She trusted Potter. Nobody had ever trusted Draco that way and he'd never trusted anyone else. Nobody deserved that kind of trust, not even Saint Potter.

Draco wondered angrily what it would be like to have someone trust him with their life. To have someone trust him enough to sob on his shoulder, to lay their self bare before him. It would never happen and he didn't want it to.

He'd learned a long time ago that showing your pain to another person only brings you more pain. He didn't like feeling. He didn't like to feel raw. He hated feeling out of control, and that was what showing emotion was, giving up control.

He hated Hermione for being able to show emotion and still be in control. It was something he'd never learned. He hated her for being whole while he was broken and empty. He hated her for trusting other people, something he just couldn't do.

Draco finally sat down and stared ahead. The light in the room was dimming as the sun went down but he didn't move. He just looked ahead, remembering things he didn't want to. After some time his thoughts cleared enough for him to notice how dark the room was. He reached over and flipped on the lamp. He saw the flame grow until the room was glowing again.

He looked to the side and saw Hermione's book. _Dune_. He stared at it for a long time, having a silent battle with it. He was about to give into temptation when the portrait swung open and Granger stumbled in.

She looked up and saw him sitting there and cursed. She straightened up and began to walk across the room. But something was off.

He stood up to head her off. "Granger-"

"Get out of my way," she said in a strained voice, as though speaking hurt her. She pushed past him, and Draco saw her hands. They were covered in blood.

"What the-?" She was clutching her thigh as she stumbled and fell to the floor.  
"Jesus, Granger!" Before he could think he reached down to help her up.

"Don't touch me!" she said through a dry sob.

She got to her feet and moved toward the bathroom. Draco stood in horror. She staggered into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. He went to follow her in but as he reached the door he heard her high-pitched voice.

"Stay out, Malfoy."

He froze again. Then began to pace, scowling. He ran his fingers through his hair. He could hear her breathing loudly and erratically through the door. For a few minutes this went on. He didn't know what to do. Should he go get a teacher? But he couldn't just leave her there bleeding…

"Ahhhh!" He heard her scream in pain through the door.

That did it. He flung the door open and saw her sagging against the counter. His eyes went straight to her leg. On her right upper thigh there seemed to be a whole. Her leg was covered in blood. Draco felt the color drain out of his face.

He rushed over and knelt on the floor in front of her.

"What the hell happened?"

"I d-don't know…" she cried. "Oh, God, it hurts!..."

Draco felt sick again, although it had nothing to do with the blood covering her leg. He didn't have a problem with blood.

Hermione was sobbing now, her whole body shaking.

Draco reached forward and lifted her up on the counter. She winced hard when he touched her, and he didn't know if it was from disgust that he was putting his hands on her or pain from her leg.

He lifted up her skirt to get a better look at the wound and she didn't stop him. There was too much blood. He couldn't see anything. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at her leg. Again, she didn't stop him. He siphoned off as much of the blood as he could and when he was more or less finished he could clearly see a small whole in her leg where something had penetrated it.

Hermione was looking down, horrified. "Oh, my God, it's a bullet wound."

"_What?"_

"From a gun…" she said wincing.

"I know what a bullet wound is, Granger," he snapped.

But she didn't hear him. At this moment she lost consciousness and began to fall off the counter.

Draco caught her and picked her up with ease. He could have used his wand but he didn't even bother. Without even thinking, he carried her as fast as he could to the hospital wing. He pounded on the door and within moments Madame Pomfrey opened the door. She looked at Hermione in Draco's arms and gasped.

"Bring her in," she said sharply. "Quickly."

Draco obeyed. He carried her in and set her down lightly on the bed.

"She's lost a lot of blood…" he said wearily.

"I can see that!" snapped the school nurse. "What happened to her?"

"I don't know," Draco said, sighing. "I think she's been shot."

"_What?"_

"That's what I said…" he muttered.

"Go get her Head of House," she ordered.

Draco didn't move. He just stared at Hermione's limp body and felt even more color drain from his face.

"Now!" she said again.

Draco left the room quickly and headed straight for the teacher's lounge. It wasn't yet late enough for anyone to have gone to bed. In an instant he was pounding on the door of the lounge.

It opened quickly and Draco saw Severus Snape staring down at him with a startled expression. "Draco?"

"Where's McGonnagal?" he demanded, ignoring propriety.

"I'm here, Mr. Malfoy," she said, walking to the door. "What's the problem?"

"It's Herm, er, Granger. She's hurt." He was out of breath, but the urgency in his voice was quite apparent.

"Where is she?" said McGonnagal sharply.

"Hospital wing."

Draco didn't wait for her. He'd done what he needed to do and he wasn't going to stick around. He walked as quickly as he could back to his room and closed the door behind him. He sunk onto his bed and closed his eyes.

_This was unreal._


	6. Save Yourself

Hermione left the Great Hall feeling happy for the first time since she'd been back to school. She was truly blessed to have the people she had in her life.

She heard voices as she turned the corner and headed down the last hallway to her room, but didn't think anything of it. Curfew wasn't for another hour.

And then, in an instant, she felt her leg explode in pain. She cried out and stumbled forward. She looked down but couldn't find the source. She looked around but saw nothing. The voices had gone away. Her brain wasn't functioning like it should, all she could think of was the pain.

In a few seconds she was at her room.

"Miss Granger, are you alright?" said the stuffy looking old wizard in the portrait guarding her door. She cried out the password desperately. She needed to get to the bathroom to look at her leg.

She stumbled through the portrait hole and started toward the bathroom. She saw Malfoy sitting in his chair and she swore loudly. She tripped and saw Malfoy standing next to her. Her head was feeling faint and the pain was strangling her but she had enough sense to know that she didn't want Malfoy touching her.

She told him to get away from her and she made her way to the bathroom. She leaned against the counter and took off her robe. Her Oxford shirt was loose from her skirt. She looked down at her leg and saw a hole in her skirt. It hurt so much worse just looking at it. For some reason, the blood was amplifying the stabbing sensation. She cried out again in pain and the door burst open.

She saw Malfoy coming toward her but she didn't have it in her to stop him. The pain was too great.

He knelt down in front of her and yanked her skirt up. She wanted to tell him to get the hell out but when she looked down and saw her leg bare and blood pouring out of it she couldn't. It was a bullet wound. She felt…dizzy. Her vision was going dark, and then…

-

"Miss Granger?" said a calm voice. The voice sounded like it was far away.

"Miss Granger…" the voice said again.

Her eyes flickered open and she saw Dumbledore looking gently into her eyes. She blinked and looked into his eyes.

"What?" she muttered. "Where…"

"Do you remember what happened to you, Hermione?" said McGonnagal from beside her.

_What?_ _What happened to me… _And then she remembered.

She sat up quickly to look at her leg.

"My leg!" she said in a stressed voice.

"Don't worry, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore's calm voice. "Your leg is fine. The bullet came out easily and dear Madame Pomfrey repaired the damage. You're quite as good as new."

Hermione exhaled in relief. "So it was a bullet…" she muttered.

"Yes," he said simply. "Hermione, do you remember what happened? Did you see where the shot came from?"

Hermione thought to herself then looked up at Dumbledore. "No, Professor. I was…walking back from dinner. I was almost to my room, and then…" She remembered her leg exploding in pain. "That's it."

Dumbledore didn't say anything. He just nodded.

Hermione remembered stumbling into her room and seeing the bullet wound and then everything was black. "But, wait!" she said urgently. "I think I passed out. How did I get here?"

"Ah," said Dumbledore with a smile. "Mr. Malfoy carried you here."

Hermione felt like she'd been slapped. "Malfoy…he…_what?_"

"I haven't spoken to him yet, but from what I understand, he carried you here and then alerted Professor McGonagall to the situation."

Hermione's eyes were wide.

"He…_why?"_

"I suppose you'd have to ask him that," said Dumbledore kindly.

Hermione closed her mouth and stared ahead. _He could have let her die…why hadn't he?_

A few moments later, Dumbledore's gentle voice interrupted her thoughts. "Hermione, I want you to go back to your room and get some sleep. You'll be safe there. I want to speak to you in the morning, and Mr. Malfoy. Please come to my office together before your breakfast."

Hermione nodded distractedly, wondering vaguely what he wanted with Malfoy.

"I also want you to try, if you can, to remember whatever you can about what happened to you."

Hermione nodded.

"Minerva, will you escort Miss Granger back to her room?"

"Of course," McGonagall said softly. She sounded more worried than she had in a long time. "Come with me, Miss Granger."

Hermione obeyed silently. She followed her teacher out the door and walked behind her, not really noticing what was around her. She looked at her watch. It was midnight. There were so many things going through her. Thoughts and feelings were taking over her. She felt overwhelmed.

Someone had just attacked her. Why would someone attack her? Why would someone use a gun in Hogwarts? Why would someone _have_ a gun in Hogwarts? - Those were the thoughts…but there was more.

Malfoy had…saved her life. Selfish, angry, annoying Malfoy who hated her as much as she hated him had saved her life. She could have died, bled to death. Maybe not. She couldn't say for sure what would have happened, but it was possible. She remembered telling him to, 'stay out.' Stupid Malfoy of course ignored her and did whatever he was going to anyway. But what if he hadn't? She didn't want to think about it.

And she really, really wished she didn't feel as guilty as she did. Maybe guilty was the wrong word…_conflicted._ That sounded right. She was in his debt. That thought made her feel very uncomfortable.

"Well, here we are."

Hermione snapped to attention. McGonnagal was smiling tiredly at her. She returned the smile and said goodnight.

She walked into her common room and looked around nervously. A part of her was relieved that Malfoy wasn't in the room, but a part of her wanted to scream at him for helping her. She knew that was crazy, but she hated how confused she felt. Someone she hated so much had no business making her question that hate.

She paced the room quietly for quite some time, thinking furiously. This was how she worked. She let everything happen inside her until she felt some clarity. She sorted it all out, organizing her thoughts and feelings so that she could feel some calm. After a while, she decided to go to bed.

There was only one thing left to do…

-

"Get out of here, Draco!" screamed his hysterical mother. "I don't want you to see this!"

A nine-year-old Draco Malfoy ran out of the lavishly furnished dining room of his ancestral mansion in fear.

He'd been eating dinner with his mother when his father came in. Draco could tell instantly from the furious state of his father what was going to happen. He felt fear well up inside him and looked at his mother. She continued to eat as though she noticed nothing.

The room was painfully still until Draco's father moved forward and backhanded his wife. The force knocked her out of her chair and little Draco had screamed out. His father ignored his attempts to get to his mother, but she told him to get out. So he obeyed her. He didn't want to make things worse. Maybe if he did what he was told his father wouldn't hit his mother again.

He tore out of the room as fast as he could and ran up the stairs toward his own bedroom. He didn't want to hear anything. He stuck his hands over his ears but it didn't shut out the sound of his mother screaming, "Damn you, Lucius! You're son saw that!"

He slammed the door behind him and ran to his bed. He lied down on his bed and stuffed a pillow over his head. He scrunched his face up and felt tears rolling down his face. Not again…he hated this.

The child cried into his pillow for what seemed like hours until his mother opened the door softly and Draco opened his eyes in fear. When he saw his mother standing there he started to cry again. She crossed to the bed and sat down. Draco wrapped his arms around himself, wishing they were his mother's. But then, she never hugged him.

"Your father loves us, Draco."

"No, he doesn't!" he spat hysterically. "He hits you. He hits me. He doesn't love us!"

His mother was silent and he continued.

"Well, I'll hit him, I'll hurt him. I'll save you."

"You can't save me, Draco. And I can't save you. As much as I'd like to, I can't. You have to save yourself. You have to trust yourself. Be strong. Things happen around you that cause you pain, but you mustn't fall, and you mustn't fear. You are my son, and you are your father's. You're a Malfoy. Malfoy's fear nothing."

Draco listened to her and felt her words hit him. She was right. He was weak. He didn't want to be weak. He wanted to prove that he was strong.

"Wipe your tears away, Draco. You must never let anyone see you cry."

He nodded and dried his face.

"Your father wants to see you."

-

Draco woke up in his room, still hearing his father's voice telling him that what he was doing was making him strong. He could feel the sting of his father's hand on his face.

The room was dark. He could see small outlines from the light of the moon coming through his window. He tried to slow his breathing as he wiped several tears from his face, disgusted with himself.

There was a soft knock on his door and he froze. Granger.

It must have been her, unless it was someone else here to tell him Granger had bled to death. He got out of bed and walked to the door. He opened it about a foot and leaned against the doorframe. It was Granger. She was alive and looked perfectly well. Well, as well as she ever did, which wasn't saying much. He smiled smugly.

"What do you want, Granger?"

She cleared her throat and spoke. He noticed she wasn't looking him in the eyes.

"Professor Dumbledore wants to see us both in his office before breakfast tomorrow," she said in a small, expressionless voice.

"Why?" he asked coldly. She should at least have the decency to look him in the eye after what he'd just done for her. Did she even remember?

"I don't know," she said, still staring at a point around his neck.

There was a long pause until Draco said, "Fine."

She nodded and he turned his back on her, ready to close the door. The bitch woke him up to tell him that? She could have just told him in the morn-

"Thank you, Draco," she said quietly.

Draco froze. He whirled around a moment later, just in time to see Hermione's bedroom door close behind her.

000

Okay, this chapter was rather difficult for me to write because it gave a glimpse into Draco's childhood. I didn't want to over do it, so I hope I didn't.

I'm really loving writing this story and thank you so much for the reviews. I love feedback, it's very validating. Seriously, please everyone tell me what you think, good or bad.

To my reviewers:

**Magical Who – **I really didn't want to rush the romance. These two have been enemies for six years and I really hate fics where the author doesn't take time to develop the relationship realistically. I swear it will happen! I want it to too. Don't worry, it's coming.

**geegeetee – **You were quite right, 'Draco' and 'Nice' can't stay in the same sentence for long…;)

**SelfHatred – **No, it wasn't Ron.

I'd be really interested in what you all are thinking about the gunshot. Where do you think it came from? Any theories?


	7. The Mirror and the Mystery

I guess I should start adding a disclaimer. Haha…as much as I wish I was J.K.R., I'm not. Aside from the enormous wealth I would have, I would more importantly know what will happen in the seventh book. But alas, I do not own these characters and I would be very, very sued if I tried to…sigh

000

Hermione didn't get much sleep in the hours after she thanked Draco Malfoy for saving her life. She'd done it because she'd known it was the right thing to do. More than that she'd done it because she knew she'd never have a clear conscience if she didn't. A load of good that was doing her now…

She drifted in and out of consciousness for about six hours, never quite able to organize herself into sleep. At 6:00AM her alarm went off and she pulled herself out of bed. The sheets were twisted everywhere and most of her pillows were on the floor. She grabbed her wand of her nightstand and cast the spell to make the bed. _Emendo._

She could see the early stages of morning through the window. Birds were twittering. Blue light glowed on the tops of the mountains. It was beautiful, but Hermione didn't notice. She wandered into the bathroom and turned the shower on. 

She felt an annoying pang as she locked her side of Malfoy's door, but she ignored it. 

It never took Hermione long to shower – she wasn't the type to fritter away time doing needless things. But today, Hermione stood under the hot water for a long time, letting the water warm her and awaken her exhausted mind and body. 

When she stepped out she stood in front of the large mirror and stared at herself. This was something she hadn't done in a long time. She didn't really like mirrors to begin with, but more than that, she didn't have the time for them. But today was different. 

She felt as though she barely knew her own reflection. Her appearance was normal. The same long and unshorn coffee-colored hair. The same brown eyes and creamy pale skin. But as she looked closer she saw more. 

She felt uncomfortable looking at her naked body this way, as though the things that were tearing her apart inside were apparent on her skin, mocking her, saying, 'This is what you are, Hermione."

She wanted to look away or break the mirror but she forced herself to keep looking. If she stopped, if she walked away, it would mean her reflection had won. So she looked harder. She walked closer and stared hard at her own face. When she saw tears rolling down it she didn't even blink. She noticed the familiar light freckles on the bridge of her nose and hated them. They too were an outward manifestation of the imperfection she felt inside.

Finally the mirror won. She picked up the bar of soap from next to the sink and threw it as hard as she could at the mirror. It made a shattering noise and a line of splinters ran out from the point of impact. Hermione picked up her clothes off the floor and walked out of the bathroom without a backward glance.

-

Draco hadn't slept at all. After Hermione had gone into her room Draco had closed to door of his and turned on the light. He was still fully clothed from the day before. His pants and hands were stained in Hermione's blood and her felt dirty. Dirty for having her blood all over him and even dirtier for what it meant, that he had saved her. He had willingly, no fearfully carried her body to the Hospital Wing.

_If Lucius could see me now…_He though bitterly.

He stripped down to nothing, wanting all the thoughts that were disgracing him to vanish with his clothes. He turned out the light and got into bed again. But he was far from sleep. He watched the moon's progression as it arched through the sky until it was gone behind the mountain and Draco was left only with his thoughts.

At about five after six he heard the water turn on in the room next to his. Hermione was taking a shower. He turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. Draco put a silencing charm on the room while he was in there. When he heard the shower door open and close nearly twenty minutes later he wondered why she hadn't done the same.

It didn't matter, in a few moments she would be gone and he could take her place. He waited for several minutes to hear her leave, but she didn't. He would have heard her door if she had. Maybe she had and he hadn't noticed. Just as he was rolling over to stare back out the window he heard a noise like glass breaking from the bathroom.

_What the hell…?_

He got out of bed and walked over to the door expecting it to be locked but it opened easily and he looked inside. The room was empty and completely normal except for the mirror. There was a circular shatter right in the middle.

Draco frowned. Why the hell was Granger destroying school property? He retrieved his wand from his room and repaired it. He looked at her closed door and wondered what was going on behind it. But he didn't have much time to dwell on it. Hermione had said that Dumbledore wanted to see them before breakfast and that didn't leave him much time. 

_If Granger hadn't spent forty-five bleeding minutes in the bathroom…girls._

Draco washed himself distractedly, his mind on the events of the night before. Aside from the confusion he felt surrounding his behavior, none of it made sense. Why would anyone want to kill Granger? Okay, bad question…

Why would anyone want to _shoot _Granger…with a gun? Why not use a wand? And why did they miss? The whole thing was crazy. Maybe Dumbledore would explain it…

With that thought to encourage him, Draco sped himself up. In a few short minutes he was dressed in his school robes and heading down to Dumbledore's office.

He arrived at the Headmaster's Gargoyle and uttered the password, _snickers bar._ Whatever that was… He knocked on the door and heard Dumbledore's voice tell him to enter. He expected to find Hermione already there with an annoyingly impatient expression on her face, but she wasn't. There were two chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk and both were empty until the old man motioned for Draco to sit in one of them and he obeyed.

"Where is Miss Gra-?"

"I don't know." Draco said shortly. He wasn't the mudblood's keeper.

"I see…" Said Dumbledore calmly. "Well I trust she's on her way. Our Head Girl isn't one to keep others waiting, is she?"

Draco grunted in response. He couldn't remember feeling this supremely uneasy in a long time.

"While we're waiting, Draco, I would like to address the issue of-"

A quiet knock on the door announced Hermione's arrival.

"Ah. Well we can address the issue later."

If it was possible, Draco began to feel even more supremely uneasy. He wondered what the atmosphere between them would be. He was exceptionally apprehensive as Dumbledore crossed the room to let the Head Girl in. 

Draco suddenly didn't know what to do with his hands. His neck felt itchy and he grimaced uncomfortably as he reached up to scratch it, tilting his head down.

Within moments Hermione was walking across the room. She looked solemn and blank. Her face was expressionless as she sat down in the chair next to Draco. She didn't so much as look at him.

Draco realized she was determinedly avoiding him, refusing to acknowledge his presence. So he followed her lead. If that was the way it was going to be it was fine with him. He relaxed his body and sat up straight, matching her aloof mannerism. To think he had let him self be unsettled. To think he had let himself _appear_ unsettled…it was not behavior befitting a Malfoy.

"Miss Granger. I trust I find you well, considering last night's events." Said Dumbledore.

"I'm fine." Said Hermione the same toneless voice that he'd heard her use once before, when McGonagall asked her if she was all right and she responded with the same two words. "I'm fine." She'd said. 

Judging by the mirror he'd just repaired and the emptiness in her voice, Hermione _clearly_ wasn't fine. But Draco wasn't about to push the issue. Dumbledore would have to have been blind and deaf not to make the same conclusion, but he didn't seem to think this was the time or place to question Hermione about her feelings.

Draco expected this was more out of respect for Hermione's dignity than any enjoyment in seeing Hermione suffer, which was a large part of what kept Draco from playing the concerned Head Boy. 

Still, she'd said thank you. But that wasn't enough. It almost made it worse. I was like rubbing in the fact that he'd betrayed himself. Granger could fret about it. It would do her some good. _Know-it-all bitty…_

"I'm glad to hear you haven't suffered any lasting damage then." Said the old man kindly.

-

_Let's not go that far…_thought Hermione bitterly. The bullet wound may have disappeared without a trace, but the damage, the _real _damage, was permanent. She owed Draco a debt. And as much as she wanted for it to be, the simple 'thank you' she'd offered last night just wasn't going to cut it. There was no way around it. She owed Draco Malfoy her life, and that was a very frightening thought.

She didn't know what to say or do now. She hadn't asked to be shot and she hadn't asked Malfoy for help. She didn't know why he'd chosen to help her and she wasn't sure she really wanted to know. But she did want to know who'd attacked her and why. She assumed that Dumbledore had called her here to tell her something about it. Though why he'd invited Malfoy…

"Miss Granger, have any other details come to you since we last spoke about the matter?" Dumbledore asked.

"No, Professor." She answered.

"Forgive an old man's impertinence, but I must ask you to recount everything that you remember, from leaving the Great Hall to waking up in the Hospital Wing, just one more time."

Hermione was silent for a long moment. If she recounted everything, that would include everything that had happened with Malfoy. Hermione wasn't particularly keen on reliving that scene, but she knew she couldn't lie to Dumbledore, nor leave anything out when he'd specifically asked her for every detail.

She sighed deeply through her nose, her lips pursed tightly, then began.

-

Draco's interest was roused in spite of himself when Dumbledore asked Hermione to give an account of what had happened to her, as he was not even sure of the details. He tilted his head toward her enough so that he could see her when she spoke but still maintain a safe appearance of disinterest.

"I left the Great Hall and was walked to my room." She began. "I was almost there, in the corridor outside my common room-"

_Her_ common room?

"I heard voices around a corner near by. I didn't think much of it because it was early. Then I felt the pain in my leg." She paused, as though not sure what to say next.

"Please go on." Said Dumbledore, removing his fingers from his chin in an encouraging gesture.

"I looked down and realized I was bleeding. It hurt. A lot."

"I should imagine so." He said softly.

"Then I walked into the common room-"

_Fell, more like._

"And I, tripped on the carpet."

_Collapsed in agony, Granger. Don't pretty it up._

"Then Malfoy-"

Draco looked forward again.

"Offered to help me up."

_Yeah, and you told me to stay away from you._

"I made it to the bathroom. I wanted to get a closer look at my leg."_  
_

_You forgot to mention how you slammed the door in my face…_

"I was bleeding pretty heavily by then, so I when I tried to lift my skirt of my leg it was sort of stuck to the wound. The harder I pulled the worse the pain got."

_So that's why she screamed._

"Then Malfoy came in to the bathroom and pulled my skirt of the wound for me."

Draco's neck was itching uncomfortably again…

"I think the bleeding got worse after that…"

_Oh you noticed too? Very astute of you, genius…_

"That's really all I remember." She said tentatively. "I think I blacked out and then…I woke up in the Hospital Wing."

"Thank you, Hermione. That was helpful." Said Dumbledore with a smile.

_Was it? I figured that much out on my own. She didn't even say anything._

"Mr. Malfoy, would you pick up where she left off? I'm assuming of course that you remember what happened after Miss Granger lost consciousness."

_You assume correctly. _Draco though with an inward smirk.

"Uhhh, yeah." He said, clearing his throat a little. "Miss Granger lost consciousness and I escorted her to the Hospital Wing."

_You carried her. She bled all over you and you carried her anyway, remember?_

"That's all."

This was pointless in Draco's opinion. They were getting nowhere. This was not new information. It was very obvious to everyone involved what had happened after Granger fainted. Draco got the feeling that Dumbledore knew all this and was deliberately making he and Granger state the obvious in front of each other for some twisted reason. This annoyed him greatly.

"Thank you." Said Dumbledore, nodding. "Now I must pose a few questions, first to you, Hermione"

Hermione nodded.

"Do you remember if the voices you heard were male of female?"

Hermione thought for a moment then said, "No. I suppose I wasn't er…paying attention." She flushed pink and Draco snorted.

Leave it to Granger to be embarrassed about not paying attention when her life was in jeopardy.

"Naturally." Said Dumbledore, ignoring Draco's snort. "And do you think it was more than one voice you heard?"

"It must have been." She said. "Yes. I think there were at least two voices."

_Finally! That's the first bit of useful information we've heard…_

Dumbledore nodded and then turned his attention to Draco again. "And did you notice anything out of the ordinary as you were, escorting your partner to the Hospital wing?"

_Partner? Let's not say things we can't take back…_

"Were there any other people? Did you see anything odd as you went?"

Draco was able to say truthfully that he did not, as he had reluctantly replayed the scene over and over in his mind looking for some detail that might have shed some light on the situation.

"No, Professor." He said quietly. This was so inane…

"Very well." Said Dumbledore in a tone of finality. "Then I must share with you both what I can."

He had both students' full attention.

"I'm afraid I know nothing more about the circumstances surrounding the attack than you do-"

_Figures._

"But there is one thing I can give you that will help."

Dumbledore reached down and pulled an item out of a drawer and placed it simply on his desk front of Hermione and Draco. They were staring at a small silver bullet.

Hermione gave a small shiver of recognition. The thing had been lodged in her leg only several hours before. She stared fixedly at it for a long moment then looked up at Dumbledore.

"Professor, I don't want to seem impolite, but how does this help us?" She asked timidly.

Draco was wondering the same thing himself.

Dumbledore smiled and said, "I'm glad you asked. You'll be happy to know that I spent a good while speaking to Arthur Weasley on this very matter last night, as it falls under it exact area of expertise. This is a muggle weapon, Hermione. Muggle weapons, much like curses, leave traces of themselves when used improperly."

Hermione nodded and Dumbledore continued. "And often when used properly." He added fairly. "In this case, when this bullet was fired from the gun that was used, it was imprinted with the gun's signature, so to speak."

When Hermione and Draco continued to stare blankly, Dumbledore went on.

"Let me be more specific. When a bulled travels through the barrel of a gun, it receives an imprint of the barrel itself. The shell is marked with whatever it traveled past."

"Ooooh." Said Hermione, comprehending. Draco understood but didn't say anything.

"Quite." Dumbledore said, nodding. Arthur informed me that a normal bullet when fired would receive spiral markings from the barrel of the gun-" 

"But how does that-?"

"Look closely at the bullet." Dumbledore

Hermione and Draco leaned forward eagerly, not even noticing how close they were to each other. Hermione gasped.

"There's nothing there!"

"Exactly." Said Dumbledore nodding. "Clearly, this was fired from an unusual gun. Whether it has been magically tampered with has yet to be determined. There's more though. Look at the bullet again."

This time Hermione and Draco knocked heads painfully as they leaned forward.

"Ouch!" Said Hermione, messaging the lump forming on her head and scowling at Draco.

"Damn it Granger, watch where your head is!" Draco said, doing the same thing with his hand.

"Watch where _my _head is?" She said, outraged by his nerve. "You are such a-"

Dumbledore cleared his throat patiently.

"Sorry, Professor." Mumbled Hermione.

Draco grumbled something incomprehensible, which was actually a cross between, "I'm sorry too," and "You should be."

"We all forget ourselves sometimes." Said Dumbledore simply. "Now look at the bullet again."

This time Draco was more careful as he leaned forward to inspect the bullet. He squinted his eyes and say what Dumbledore was speaking of.

"C.E.S." Draco said, perplexed.

"Initials." Said Hermione, sounding equally baffled. "But who-?"

"Wait." Said Draco. "Arthur Weasley said that there should be spiral markings on the bullet. Why would there be initials, but no markings?"

"That, Mr. Malfoy, is what I would like Miss Granger to find out."

"What?" Said Hermione and Draco together in an equally sharp voice.

"Hermione, I would like you to leave school for a little while. I want you to go find out whose initials are C.E.S."

"But-but…" She stuttered desperately. "I wouldn't even know where to start, Professor." Her eyes were wide in shock and anxiety. "_Why_?"

"Because this happened to you, Hermione. You are of age now. As much as I want to solve this for you, it is up to you to get to the bottom of it."

Draco got the feeling there was more to Dumbledore's reasons than he was saying. "Professor." Draco said, not knowing why he was saying it, but unable to stop himself. "How can she possibly figure it out on her own?"

"She won't be on her own." Said Dumbledore.

The two students were stone silent. 

"I want you to go with her, Mr. Malfoy."

"WHAT?" Draco and Hermione shouted together in equally _outraged _voices. They turned and glared at each other for a brief moment before turning back to glare at Dumbledore.

Hermione recovered first. "Professor, I don't know why you are asking me to do this. But I can do it by myself." She said stubbornly.

Draco snorted and Hermione glowered at him.

"You are a magnificently brilliant individual, Hermione, and your talent as a witch in unmatched, but even the best of us need help sometimes."

Draco rolled his eyes. He knew that Dumbledore was right, and he knew that Hermione would probably need help, but he was at a loss as to why it had to be him that gave it.

"Why me?" He demanded.

"I'm afraid I can't give you my reasons, Mr. Malfoy. I must ask you to trust me."

Draco glared.

"_But were Heads_." Hermione almost pleaded.

"Oh, not to worry." Dumbledore said brightly. "I don't think you will be gone more than a few weeks, if that. I trust in you intelligence. In the meanwhile, there are more than enough prefects to take over your duties."

Draco was screaming inside but his pride stopped him for pitching a fit. Sharing a dorm was one thing, but leaving school and traveling together, working on a mystery together, that was just too much to ask. Draco pondered all the things they would have to do together and began to feel queasy. He could flat out refuse to go, but somehow he knew that wasn't an option.

Hermione must have known it too. "What do you want us to do?" She said in a resigned voice. 

Draco looked at her and found the familiar determined glance he had come to associate with her on her face. He scowled yet again.

"I will leave that up to you." Dumbledore said. "I want the two of you to go back to your quarters and discuss what you want to do next."

Hermione nodded slowly and Draco shook his head slowly, rolling his eyes and glaring at the ceiling.

_You've got to be kidding me…_

"Fine." He said shortly. He stood up quickly and walked out of Dumbledore's office. He'd do it. He'd play by the rules. But there were a few things he would make perfectly clear to Granger first.

He stalked back to the common room and plopped himself down in his armchair to wait for the Head Girl.

-

Hermione was still in shock at what was being asked of her, but she trusted the Head Master. As she stood to leave the office, she turned to Dumbledore and said, "Professor, is there any specific place you think I should start looking?"

Dumbledore thought for a moment before speaking.

"I think you should go home first, Hermione. Your parents are muggles, and very wise at that. They may be able to help you along."

Hermione nodded wordlessly and tried to smile. Then another though occurred to her and she spoke quickly.

"Can I tell my friends what's happened and where I'm going? I'll leave that to you also. You may tell your friends whatever you trust them to know. Although I think the fewer details you give, the better."

Hermione nodded again. "Thank you, Professor, for your help."

"You're welcome, Miss Granger. Good luck."

000

**A/N-**

Okay, this chapter took me a while to write because I had to do quite a bit off in depth research to make sure what I'm planning for the story is plausible. I'm happy to say that it is and I hope to take you all for a wild ride…

The first part of the chapter came easily and I really enjoyed writing it, the scenes in the bathroom, but I had a horrible case of writer's block when they got to Dumbledore's office. I finally just had to sit down and play spider solitaire until I recovered. I hope the scene turned out okay. Let me know what you think.

Thanks for the reviews, I love to read them! 

**--**


	8. The Muggle Habitat

**Disclaimer: Not J.K.R. I wish.**

Hermione wondered back to her room full of ideas and worries. She didn't know what she was going to say to Draco though she had a pretty good idea of what he was going to say to her. If he was half as confused, angry, and frustrated as she was, he'd have sever choice words to throw in her direction. She was right.

She had only to climb through the portrait hole to be hit with, "Let's get a few things straight, Granger."

She sighed and crossed the room to sit in her chair next to Malfoy.

"I didn't ask for this." He snarled. "If it were up to me, you'd be on your own. I'd be happy to never see you, speak to you, or hear of you again."

Hermione was silent, waiting for him to say everything he needed to say. She knew there was no point in arguing with him about any of it. She didn't really have it in her to fight with him anyway. She wasn't any happier about this than he was, but she knew what had to be done.

"If I had it to do over again, I'd leave you to bleed to death in that bathroom."

Hermione was jolted out of her thoughts by this comment. She felt like she'd been slapped across the face. She looked into Draco's eyes and he looked like he knew he'd gone too far.

"Do you mean that?" She finally asked.

He clenched his jaw then said, "It doesn't matter, Granger. I don't have a choice about what has to be done here and neither do you."

"You're wrong, Malfoy. I don't have a choice, but you do. Walk away. I can do this on my own. If that's what you want, if you would truly have left me to die, then I don't need you with me." Hermione said quietly. She got up and began to walk to her room. She didn't need this. Screw it.

-

Draco had known as soon as he'd said it that he'd crossed the line. He knew that it was a lie. There is no way he would have let her die. A vivid image of her clasping in his arms flashed into his arms and he scowled. 

When she asked him if he meant it, he couldn't honestly say he had. But he couldn't make himself say that he hadn't.

She was right. He did have a choice. But he knew he couldn't leave her to do this alone, just as he couldn't have let her to die. There was no choice. 

"Get back here, Granger!" Draco commanded furiously.

Surprisingly she obeyed. She turned around and glared at him wearily. "What?"

"I'm not about to let you take this on by yourself. I would never be able to show my face again if people knew that I was assigned to help you and refused. If you died I'd never live it down."

Hermione scoffed indignantly. "If that's what this is about for you then you don't have to worry. Nobody knows and I won't tell anyone. I have no intention of dying."

Draco shook his head. "What are you saying, Granger?"

"I'm offering you an out. You can do what we both know you want to do: leave the work to me and worry about yourself. I wouldn't even blame you."

"That's enough, Granger. He spat angrily. "That is the last time I'm going to let you tell me what _I'd_ prefer to do. You have no idea what I want. You don't even know me. You are a condescending bitch. But I have something you don't give me credit for. I'm not a coward. I stick to my word. I told Dumbledore I'd help you and I will."

She had no right to look at him like he was nothing, like he was irresponsible and lazy. She just assumed things about him and he hated it.

"No sit down. We need to figure out what we are going to do."

Hermione stared at him for a long time with a confused look on her face, as though she couldn't believe he had an ounce of integrity in him, and it annoyed the hell out of him. After a while she sat down again.

"Fine." She said. She obviously wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of arguing his last point. "Dumbledore suggested we go to my parents first. He said they'd have some insight."

"What, no!" Draco said, incensed by the idea that Hermione's muggle parents could do anything to help the situation.

"I thought you said you were going to help me." Said Hermione, crossing her arms.

"I did. But there's no way I'm going to spend time in your dirty muggle house."

Hermione ignored his rudeness and said, "You have a better idea."

Draco huffed as he thought. The truth was that he didn't have a better idea. As much as the thought of even entering Granger's filthy dwelling and spending time with her common family, he couldn't think of another option. They really had nowhere else to go and no ideas of where to start yet. 

"Fine." He said finally. "We'll leave tomorrow morning."

"Fine." She said. And with that she got up and walked into her room, leaving him to consider what he'd just agreed to. Not just spending time in Hermione's house, but all of it. He couldn't think of a logical reason to help her. Even a year ago, he probably would have left her on her own. But something unknown combined with how angry he'd felt when she'd suggested he 'take an out' made him do it.

A few minutes later, Hermione came out of her room again and left for her classes, reminding Draco he should do the same. He went through the day distractedly. He didn't see Hermione again until that night when she was bent over her desk in their study with several large books spread out in front of her. He decided he'd leave her to it. Hermione loved knowledge and they were going to need as much of it as they could get.

Draco slept restlessly once again and woke up early to pack. He didn't know how long he'd be gone of what he'd need. He pulled out a duffle bag from his closet and placed it on his bed. The obvious things went in first. He pulled several pairs of boxers and socks. He stuck his dress shoes, which he wore almost every day, in the bottom on the bag.

Three pairs of black slacks went in next followed by five plain oxford style shirts and a dark green sweater and a couple of plain grey t-shirts. That was everything he could think of. He took a quick shower then brushed his teeth. 

Back in his room he put the toothbrush and paste in the side pouch of his bag, along with a comb, a razor, hair gel, and his cologne. Only a few minutes later he heard the shower turn on again and knew that Hermione was awake and getting ready. Good. He didn't want to draw the whole thing out.

He pulled on the pair of slacks he'd left out and a light grey sweater with a slight V-neck and a navy blue stripe across the upper chest that wrapped all the way around. He put on his trainers and picked up his bag. He took on last look at the room, turned off the light, and went down to the great hall for an early breakfast.

He was one of only a few people there when he arrived. He sat down at the Staff Table next to Dumbledore and stuck his bag under the table. Dumbledore, who was in fact one of the early risers, smiled warmly at him.

"Judging by your lack of a uniform and the bag you just placed on my foot, I'd say you and Miss Granger are leaving this morning."

"Yes, Professor." Said Draco, kicking his bag a bit so it was no longer squashing Dumbledore. "The sooner the better, we figured."

"I quite agree. And I'm very proud to see you attacking this challenge head on." 

"Thank you sir." Said Draco, trying to smile.

He spoke to Dumbledore about various things that needed addressing, then something hit him.

"Sir?" He said suddenly.

"Yes?" Answered Dumbledore politely.

"Yesterday in your office, you were going to say something before Granger showed up. What was it?"

"I think that can wait until another time, Draco. You have enough to be getting on with right now." He smiled kindly.

Draco nodded, shoving down his curiosity and went back to his breakfast. Dumbledore was certainly right about that. He had more than enough to deal with.

Hermione came in about a half an hour later with a bag very like Draco's on one arm and Ginny Weasley clinging to the other looking very anxious. He couldn't hear what they were saying but he realized that Hermione must have told her what was going on.

He watched as the He Weasel and Scarhead came in and sat down next to Hermione. Potter looked okay, but Weasley looked sick. There was obvious tension between he and Hermione and when he saw Ron throw his arms around Hermione has instinctively looked away. He thought for a moment about Hermione and her friends and how close they were. 

He thought of the people he called friends and how a scene like the on he had just witnessed would be absolutely laughable. He realized he hadn't said a word to any of what was going on to any of them. He turned again to Dumbledore to find the man already looking at him. It was like he had read Draco's mind.

"I will tell your friends that you have gone to see the opening of the new Egyptian Library with the Head Girl once you are gone."

Draco nodded. This was a good cover. Simple and vague. They wouldn't question it since the Head Boy and Girl often went on field trips together.

He looked back at Hermione's table to see she had left it and was walking toward him. It was obvious that she didn't want to draw it out either.

"I'm ready." She said simply, standing next to him. Draco nodded and stood up. Hermione smiled at the Headmaster and they both shook his hand.

"Good luck, to both of you." He said. "Let me know how things are going."

They nodded and left together without another word to Dumbledore or each other, until they were out the gates and into apparating range.

"I wrote my parents yesterday and told them we were coming. They're expecting us. Draco didn't trust himself to speak without saying something that would make Hermione slap him to he kept his mouth shut.

"Here's the address." She said, giving him a small piece of paper with her address written on it.

"On three." He said, grabbing hold of his bag. "One. Two- he focused on the address. _Three_."

-

Hermione knew she was going to have to tell Harry and Ron that she'd been shot and that she was leaving for an indefinite period of time, but she didn't know how she was going to say it.

She was antsy all through her first classes with them and she knew she'd have to do it soon before her nerves got the better of her and she said the wrong thing. In her last class, toward the end of the hour, she pulled them aside.

"Ron, Harry, I have to tell you something."

Ron, who was still avoiding her pretended like he didn't hear her, but Harry said, "What is it, Hermione?"

"Something happened to me last night, something bad."

Ron immediately snapped out of his cold silence and said, "It's Malfoy isn't it? He tried something. I'll kill him."

"_No._ Ron." She said firmly. "I was shot."

"_What_?" Said her two friends together.

"Are you okay?" Breathed Ron.  
"By a gun?" Said Harry perplexedly.

"I'm fine. And yes, by a gun." She assured them. She saw Ron relax slightly. "Madame Pomfrey fixed it up."

"Oh, good." Said Harry. She knew he was about to dive into the who's and why's but she cut him off before he could.

"I have to leave." She said simply. Silence. "Dumbledore wants me to go figure this out."

"What?"  
"On your own?"  
"Why?"

"I won't be on my own. Malfoy will be with me." She said quietly.

Ron looked murderous.

"But, Hermione-" Started Harry.

"Please." She said. "I know you want to talk about it, Harry. But I can't. I just wanted to tell you that I'll be gone for a little while. I'd tell you not to worry but it'd be a waste of breath." She smiled at him but Harry didn't smile back.

After a while he nodded. And that was it. Hermione looked at Ron for some sort of reaction but he just stood up and walked out of the room.

"I've got to go Harry. I'll see you tomorrow morning before I leave."

She gave him another smile, which he returned this time, and turned to leave. She walked quickly to the library and pulled as many books on muggle weapons from the shelves as she could find.

She spent the evening delving through them looking for something that could help her then went to bed early. The next morning she got into the shower almost as soon as she heard Malfoy get out. She packed up her things and went to the Great Hall.

On the way she met Ginny, who ran into her arms like a crazy person, in tears.

"Harry told me…oh Hermione!" She sobbed. "Be careful!"

"I will, Ginny." Hermione whispered reassuringly. "Take care of Harry and Ron while I'm gone."

The two girls hugged for a while then went to breakfast together.

Hermione saw Draco seated at the Staff Table with Dumbledore. He was ready to leave whenever she was. She sat down and began to eat. Not long after this, Ron and Harry walked in and sat down next to her.

"Well, I guess you'll be going soon." Said Harry.

"As soon as I'm finished eating." She replied, nodding. She really wanted to get on with it. She tried to smile as she got up to grab her bag again, but was half-assaulted by Ron as he threw his arms around her.

"Come back to me." He whispered before releasing her and walking out of the great hall. Hermione smiled and relaxed. Everything was going to be okay, she knew it. She smiled one last time then went to join Malfoy and Dumbledore.

-

When he arrived on Hermione's lawn, the first thing Draco felt was astonishment. He had expected to appear and find himself in front of a hovel in the same class as the shack the Weasley's had the boldness to call a house. Hermione's house was very large even by wizard standards. It was brown and tan in a Tudor style. The lawn was large and well taken care of. Roses surrounded the walk to the door. Draco thought gave off an air of wealth and class, against his will. 

"Granger, what do your parents do for a living…" He mumbled, still in a sort of daze.

"They're Dentists." She said a little shortly.

Draco didn't know what a Dentist was but if he were a muggle and forced to make his own fortune, it was obvious that Dentistry would be his career of choice. Maybe staying here wouldn't be so bad after all…

"Alright Malfoy." She said shrewdly. "Let's get a few things straight."

Draco turned his head to her a little startled.

"You're in my house now, so you'll follow my parents' rules. You may not like this and you may not like them, but you will treat them with respect in their own home." She said authoritatively. "Is that clear?"

Draco rolled his eyes and began up the walk. "Honestly Granger, I'm not completely devoid of class."

Hermione snorted and moved past him, walking quickly to the door. She knocked a few times before opening the door and walking in. Draco stepped in behind her and closed the door softly. He set his bag down and looked around.

_Not bad…_

The foyer itself, aside from being lavishly decorated, was large enough to fit the whole of the Burrow in. 

_She has this and she spends her summers with Weasley? _He though, bewildered.

It was nothing on the Malfoy Manor of course. But Draco felt comfortable here. Well, as comfortable as could considering his present company.

"Hermione!" Said a woman with thick brown hair as she came around a corner from the right. Her thick brown hair and defined jaw line gave her away as Hermione's mother. She took her daughter in her arms and held her. She whispered something in her ear that Draco couldn't hear. He imagined it had something to do with her being shot from the worried look in her eyes.

She let go of Hermione and turned to Draco with a smile on her face. Muggle though she was, Mrs. Granger exuded warmth and Draco couldn't help but smile back at her.

"And you must be Draco Malfoy." She said, keeping an arm around Hermione's shoulder. 

"I am. It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Granger." Said Draco politely, although distantly.

"You can call me Jane. And welcome to our home."

"Thank you. It's quite beautiful." He commented truthfully.

Jane Granger beamed at him. "Well," She said, clapping her hands once. "I wanted to be here when you got here. Your father had to leave early to the office today. He wanted to be here but he sends his love and says he'll see you tonight."

"Okay." Said Hermione cheerfully. "Are you leaving now?"

"Yes." Her mother replied. "I'm sorry dear. I'd love to stay but I can't. I trust the two of you can handle yourselves until we're home tonight. Just don't set anything on fire."

Mrs. Granger winked and Hermione chuckled. "I can't promise anything, mum."

Mrs. Granger laughed and hugged her daughter again quickly before grabbing a large leather bag off a mahogany table near the front door. "I made up the second guest room for Mr. Malfoy. You can show him to it whenever you're ready. I love you dear."

With that, her mother left and there was quiet again. Draco looked at Hermione, who was smiling.

_Second_ guest room? How many did they have?

Draco, who had watched the whole scene aloofly, stared at her curiously. It was like he was seeing her for the first time. Hermione in her own home seemed somehow different. For once in his life, Draco felt out of place, for more than one reason.

"Your parents really love you." He said quietly. "Don't they?"

If Hermione though this was an odd question, she didn't show it. "Yes, they do." She looked around her foyer once more and smiled again before looking back at him. "Thank you, for being courteous to my mother."

Draco nodded once to show he'd heard her but didn't say anything. Granger thanking him was still an idea he was getting used to.

Something strange was happening. Much of the anger he usually felt had evaporated when he walked through the Grangers' door. He felt more at ease than he had in a long time. Still, best not to lead himself or Granger into a false sense of security.

"Granger. This doesn't change anything. I'll behave like the well bred individual that I am to your parents, but don't expect me to start being buddy-buddy with you."

"Don't worry Malfoy." She answered quickly. "I gave up expecting things from you a long time ago. I'll show you to your room."

_That was harsh…_

He followed he silently up the large wooden staircase that curved up to the left and open up into a long wide hallway with many closed doors. There were a lot of rooms for so few people. Still, there were not so many rooms as there could have been. Looking around the house, it seemed the Grangers had opted for quality more than quantity…interesting. 

They passed several doors on both the right and left before Hermione stopped near the end of the hall. 

"Right here." She said, motioning to a door on the left. She opened it up and Draco followed her in. 

It was simple, but large. It was tastefully furnished, with a large bed against the opposite wall, a dresser, a walk in closet, and a nightstand. A mirror with a gold frame hung on a wall. Draco could handle this.

He set down his bag on the bed.

Hermione leaned against the doorframe and said, "Your bathroom is right across the hall. I'm going to go unpack and change. I'll let you do the same, then I'll show you where the kitchen is."

She turned and to walk down the hall. Draco followed her and stopped in the doorway. "Which one is yours?" He asked. 

She pointed to a door on the other side of the hall then disappeared behind it.

For some reason he would have paid a lot of money to see Hermione's room. 

It didn't take him long to unpack everything he had in his bad. He hung most of his clothes in the closet and stuck the rest in the dresser. He didn't need to change into anything else, so he put his other things in the bathroom Hermione had told him was for his use. Once again he wasn't disappointed.

He sauntered back into the guest room and lied down on the bed. He was very tired considering it was midmorning. This was all so strange. It was remarkable to him that he could feel so relaxed in this muggle home. In _Hermione's _home. A part of him had honestly thought there would be a real stench to her house, as though muggles would reek in their natural habitat. That was certainly what he father had always led him to believe. But then, Lucius Malfoy was not exactly what could be considered credible. And with that ironic thought in his head, Draco drifted off to sleep.

-

Only a short while later Hermione appeared in his doorway, intending to show him the rest of the house, or at least the parts he would be using for however long they were there. But when she saw him lying on the bed, she decided not to wake him. The obvious reason was that Draco Malfoy was much more tolerable while unconscious. But as she stood there watching him, she realized that Draco Malfoy looked peaceful. His breathing was deep and steady and he didn't even have a trace of his usual sneer.

She stood there watching him sleep until she realized what she was doing. She closed the door softly and walked down the hallway and back to her room. She had a lot to think about.

000

A/N- Okay, this chapter came a lot more easily than most of the other have. I apologize for writing most of the time from Draco's perspective. Honestly, I find him simply fascinating and I love writing from him. I have to remind myself to switch back to Hermione sometimes…lol

I'm sorry for skimming over the goodbyes between Hermione and her friends. This is a D/Hr story and I wanted to get on with it.

**Thanks as always for the reviews and again, tell me what you think!**

Amanda


	9. Intruders

Disclaimer: you know the drill. I'm me, not she.

000

Draco woke up a few hours later, amazed that he had drifted off and wondering how long he'd been out. He pulled his watch out of his pocket. It was only noon. He'd only been asleep for two hours. Still, Granger had told him she be back, where was she?

He rose hesitantly from the bed and walked to his door to open it. He looked down the hall to Hermione's door and saw that it was closed. He walked slowly down the hall, unsure if she was in her room or not. As he got closer he heard music and he knew she must be inside. He wondered what she was doing, alone in her own bedroom. He leaned back against the wall across from her door and crossed his arms.

He was half tempted to go off and explore the Grangers' house on his own but he knew this was a bad idea. He thought he should probably knock on Hermione's door but curiosity at what she was doing got the better of him. He moved forward quietly and turned the handle of her door slowly, careful not to let it squeak.

As it turned out, he needn't have worried. The music that had been faint from the hall was rather loud now that the door was open. He let it open about a foot and looked inside.

It was almost fascinating, he thought. He glanced around Hermione's room almost reverently. It was like touching something he wasn't allowed to touch. He knew she would never have given him permission to intrude. It was even more amazing to see her room that was just so…her. Someone else had decorated the Head Girl's quarters at school. But this room was all Hermione's. Everything in it was what she had chosen for herself. It was more than a room; it was a window to this girl who confused and often angered him. He didn't understand her. But this, this gave him a hint of who she really was.

It was something he never thought he'd want to know. The idea of being curious about what Hermione Granger kept personal was absurd, but then, here Draco was.

He really hadn't known what to expect when he'd opened the door. A part of him expected to see cheesy stuffed animals perched all over the place. But that's not what was here. Her bed was made of black brass. She had chosen pale blue and gold satin for her very fluffy comforter. It was very simple yet very elegant. Her walls had pictures of different places she'd been in the world. She had a map of the world with little dots on the places she'd been on one wall. She'd been a lot of places…

She had a large vanity with a mirror next to her bed, and several bookshelves, which were mostly filled. Draco recognized a TV and computer under her window. Another large silver box with buttons was flashing red lights. He wondered vaguely what it was, but his attention rested finally on Hermione herself, who was sitting Indian style on the foot of her bed, writing in her journal.

Draco felt a sudden desire to know what she was writing, but ignored it. He just watched her. She had pulled her hair back again and had changed into muggle clothes. Denim shorts and a simple yellow T-Shirt covered her smooth skin. He saw her mouth move slightly and realized she was singing along to her music. He listened closer to the song and realized he liked it. It was smooth and unpretentious, much like the girl who obviously loved it.

Hermione smiled slightly for no apparent reason and laughed to herself. Draco felt himself smile. A violin started playing in her song and she closed her eyes and bobbed her head a little until it was over and the music evened out again. She opened her eyes and smiled peacefully. She began to write again, completely unaware that there was someone watching her.

Some part of Draco knew then. 

He just stood there and watched her. It was amazing to him that after everything she'd been through and seen, after everything she'd been a part of, she could still smile like that. She was wholly untainted. There was an innocence about her that Draco almost resented.

Draco didn't really know what he was feeling, or thinking. It was like the world was new to him, in this place. He was broken out of his trance when Hermione suddenly looked up and saw him standing there. He instinctively took a step back.

He expected her to start screaming at him, telling him to get out, but she didn't. She just looked at him with a startled expression on her face. Finally she closed her journal and got up from her bed gracefully. She crossed to the silver box and hit a button. Immediately the music stopped.

She turned to him and said, "Hi. You're awake."

His throat felt dry when he spoke. "Why didn't you wake me?"

She crossed the room and slipped her sandals on. "I thought you needed to sleep." She said simply. Then she looked him right in the eyes. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long." He lied. Then his curiosity defeated him again. "What was that song?"

Hermione came to the door and walked out into the hall, pulling it closed behind her. "Crush. Dave Matthews Band."

"Oh." He replied. He had a feeling he'd remember that for a long time.

_Snap out of it, Draco._

"Your room is very…juvenile." He said smugly, regaining some of his usual swagger. 

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "You could have knocked."

"Where's the fun in that?" He asked teasingly. He was still being a little too…nice. He needed to piss her off. "I only wish you'd been naked. Then I'd know for sure that your body matches your room."

She threw him an icy glare that made him smirk. Hermione's body was far from childlike, but anything that irritated her, true or not, was okay by Draco.

Hermione led the way down the stairs. "If you're quite finished insulting me, I'll show you where the kitchen is."

"I'll never be finished insulting you, Granger."

Hermione glared at him again. "Why am I not surprised?" But she kept walking, so he followed.

Through a short hallway and a swinging door Draco found himself in a spacious kitchen with an island covered in blue ceramic tile and surrounded by bar stools. The dining room was adjacent. Everything was very clean. Yet it still retained the warmth he'd felt since first walking through the front door.

Hermione pointed to the icebox and said, "Fridge." She pointed to the counter in the corner and said, "Coffee."

She indicated in the same way where the dust bin, silverware drawer, and dishes were.

Clearly she wasn't going to cater to him.

"Are you hungry?" She asked, walking to the fridge and opening it.

Draco admitted he was. He walked up behind her and peered over her shoulder. "My God, Granger. You've got nothing here."

"My parents normally eat out, I think."

Draco reached in and grabbed a box labeled 'Corn Dogs.' He wasn't sure what a Corn Dog was, but it looked to be the only substantial food in there.

Hermione looked annoyed. "Help yourself." She quipped sarcastically.

"I will." He said unabashedly.

He looked at the box then around the room. He really had no idea what to do with a frozen corn dog. "How do I…?" He muttered.

Hermione sighed in exasperation and snatched the box out of his hand. She pulled out two corn dogs and placed them in another silver box. Draco found himself reluctantly fascinated by the gadgets muggles used as substitutes for magic. 

"This is called a 'Microwave." She said condescendingly, as though speaking to a child. "It heats up whatever you put inside it."

Draco gave her a sneer but didn't say anything. She pressed several buttons and a timer popped up on the box. Draco watched in skepticism. He found it very unlikely that when the timer hit zero, their food would be 'magically warm,' so to speak.

But sure enough, two minutes later the 'Microwave' beeped and Hermione pulled the steaming corn dogs out. She put one on a plate for each of them and pulled a bottle of ketchup out of a cupboard.

The two of them ate in silence. Hermione finished first.

"I didn't want to be the first to bring it up," she said. "But we need to figure out what we're going to do next."

Draco swallowed. "I thought we were going to wait for your parents to get home, then talk to them about it."

"Oh. Yeah…we were. I just. I mean, I didn't think you would…"

"Stop muttering, Granger. Under the circumstances, I think that's our best option." He said. He didn't like admitting it, but he already trusted Hermione's parents. He felt sure that they'd be able to help.

Hermione nodded then got up. "It's 12:30 now. They'll be home at 5:30. That's five hours."

"I can add, Granger." He snarled.

"Will wonders never cease…" She said, bating him.

"Listen you-?"

"I'm going to go take a nap." She said, cutting him off. "I'm sure you can find a way to amuse yourself. The TV is through that door and the library is through that one. I'm assuming of course that you haven't forgotten how to read."

She gave him a nauseating smile and strolled out of the room.

Draco shook his head. Hermione Granger really went above and beyond the call of obnoxious.

A few more bites finished his corn dog and he got up.

He went through the first door and bent down to fiddle with the buttons on the TV. About an hour later he was thoroughly bored so he turned it off and decided to do some exploring. If he ever wanted to, now was his best chance.

About ten minutes later he figured he's seen most everything and found himself in the library. He smirked inwardly as he pictured Hermione spending hours in here like it was a bloody chapel.

Draco looked around the room until he found the most valuable thing he'd seen yet in the house. And by 'valuable' he didn't necessarily mean monetary worth. Draco Malfoy loved the piano. It was a little known fact, but he'd been playing since childhood. It was the one escape he'd been allowed as a boy. The Grangers' piano was very fine indeed. He smiled genuinely as he pulled the bench back and sat down. He was at home now.

-

Hermione wondered if leaving Draco alone and unsupervised in her house was a good idea, but she didn't fancy the idea of babysitting him and she really did need a nap. The bizarre nature of the situation she found herself in hit her harder than ever when she had told Draco to amuse himself with her TV.

Also, Draco had been noticeably less hostile toward her after his nap. She wondered what had caused the change and how long it would last for, before he remembered that he was Draco Malfoy and that his mission in life was to be an insufferable prick.

Not that she didn't appreciate him behaving himself in front of her mother; she had honestly expected him to treat her mother with the same open animosity that he showed her. But he hadn't. He'd surprised her and been very charming. Hermione suspected he had it in him to be charming at any time and chose not to be. What a shame…she could almost tolerate him. _Almost._

Hermione fell asleep easily and woke up several hours later. She rolled over to look at her clock. 5:15. She sighed sleepily and closed her eyes. She really hoped her parents would have some ideas. She wondered how Draco had chosen to spend the last five hours and hoped dearly that he hadn't disregarded her mother's request that they not set anything on fire.

She got out of bed and straightened her cloths. When she left her room she heard the music. It was beautiful, like something out of a dream. Someone was playing the piano. Someone was playing the piano very well. She froze for an instant before the music pulled her toward it.

Who could possibly be-?

_No way._

Hermione quickened her pace and walked toward the library. She knew before she got there who was playing but when she saw him sitting there, his hands creating music like she'd never heard before, something changed inside her.

She watched him from the side as his fingers moved faster than hers ever could. He stared straight ahead, his face blank. His body swayed slightly, following his hands wherever they took him. She was captured.

And then he closed his eyes. She'd never seen him more alive. She was seeing something she was not meant to be a part of and it scared and moved her. How could this boy, this boy who had never been anything but horrible and selfish, create something so beautiful? He'd never shown himself to her, but his music gave him away.

Physically, he was the same Draco he'd been five hours ago. But now Hermione's eyes had changed. She was seeing him now, really for the first time. She felt so much in that moment. Every emotion hit her like a tidal wave, and then he smiled. He was the most beautiful enigma she'd ever seen.

A door opened and closed behind her and she jumped. Draco turned around and saw her standing there. She didn't even look at him as she turned away quickly to go greet her parents. She wiped tears hastily from her eyes and pushed everything she'd just felt deep down where no one would ever find it. This was dangerous and she knew that whatever had just happened to her could never be known.

"Hermione." Her father said, holding his arms out for her. She ran to him and wrapped her arms around him.

"Hi daddy." She whispered.

"I'm so glad you're okay." He said, pushing her back took look at her. "When I heard what happened…Hermione…" His voice started to shake and Hermione hugged him again.

"It's okay daddy." She said. "I'm safe."

"I know you are. Thanks to this boy here." 

Hermione's father released her and crossed the hall to Draco Malfoy, who was standing awkwardly in the archway between the library and the foyer.

"Thank you." He said simply, holding his hand out to Draco. "I owe you my life and more."

-

Draco was speechless. Hermione Granger and her father obviously had a bond unmatched by anything Draco had ever seen. The way he held her, and spoke to her…Hermione was her father's life.

Draco didn't know that kind of love was possible until that moment. He felt more out of place than he ever had. And then the man looked at Draco. Draco didn't know what he would say. This man emanated goodness and authority. He commanded respect. Draco was terrified for a brief moment. But then the man offered Draco his hand.

"Thank you. I owe you my life and more."

Draco didn't trust himself to speak, so he shook Hermione's father's hand and nodded. He glanced at Hermione but she reused to look him in the eye.

_Does she really hate me that much?_

About ten minutes later Hermione's mother came in the door and greeted both her daughter and Draco warmly. Was this what Hermione's life was like? Draco wondered if she knew how lucky she was.

He stood back and watched as the family had their moment together. Anger rose up inside him and he walked into the kitchen to sit down on a barstool. The last thing he wanted was to hang around in the hallway witnessing something he would never have. Was it possible that he was jealous of Granger?

No…Hermione was a mudblood. She had nothing that he wanted. Draco knew that if he wanted something he had to get it for himself. Hermione didn't understand that. She had her friends and her family to rely on and they had her. Draco was alone. It was better this way…

If ever he had a moment of weakness where he forgot who he was and what Granger was, he would remember how she hated him. Her father had thanked Draco and Hermione hadn't been able to so much as look at him. In that moment, as much as he hated Hermione for ignoring him, for having a perfect family and perfect friends, for being able to smile, he hated himself so much more.

**000**

Okay, this chapter had some obvious cheese in it, but I felt like it needed it. I'd go into more detail, but I don't want to give anything away. I'll just say that these seeds needed to be planted now.

Thanks for reading and so on…

I should have chapter 10 up later tonight or tomorrow afternoon.

Again, I apologize if the chapter was too soft, but I swear, it won't stay so.


	10. Dangerous Thoughts

Disclaimer: Beware of Dog  
Er, I mean, I'm not J.K.R.

**000**

Hermione and her parents came into the kitchen a few minutes later, breaking Draco out of his bitter reflection.

"Well Draco Malfoy, I don't think I properly introduced myself. My name is John. While you're any my home I want you to feel free to ask me for anything."

"Thank you, sir." Draco said quietly.

"If there is anything you want or need I'll gladly give it, you have only to ask. You saved my daughter's life, I owe you so much."

"That's really not necessary…" Draco mumbled, looking anywhere but any of the Grangers.

"Of course it's necessary!" Piped up Jane Granger kindly. "You gave us back Hermione. Goodness…you've know her for years, you must know how special she-"

"Mum." Hermione interrupted firmly. "We were hoping that maybe you'd be able to help us figure this whole thing out."

Since she was speaking it was natural to look at her, so Draco did.

There was something wrong with her. Well, more so than usual. She looked flushed and a little shaky. She was refusing to look anywhere near him. 

Her father was saying something. Draco tore his eyes from Hermione to watch the man sitting next to her. His voice sounded far away until Draco told himself to focus.

"Yes Hermione, I know. Your mother and I have been talking about it and we think we should celebrate first."

"What?" Said Hermione blankly, as though she thought she'd heard him wrong.

Draco was feeling the same way.

"You want to celebrate your daughter being shot?" He said, his eyebrows raised.

"No." Said Hermione's mother. "We want to celebrate her being safe."

"What?" Hermione said. "Mum no. I just want to get this over-"

"Nonsense, Hermione." The woman said, taking her daughter's hand. This is a very special day, we want to remember it."

"Mum, it's not that big of a deal…" Hermione looked extravagantly uncomfortable. I'm fine. I'm safe. We really don't know what would have happened if Malfoy hadn't…"

_God, she can't even say it. Carried your bleeding body out of that bathroom? Yes Granger, we know exactly what would have happened._

Hermione's father seemed to agree with Draco. "We want to do this for you, Hermione. For both of you." He added, turning to beam at Draco.

Draco stared hard at his hands.

Hermione seemed at a loss for words. Only a few months ago this would have been nothing short of miraculous, not to mention a complete gift to Draco, but now he wished she'd open her mouth and tell her parents to get a hold of themselves. Draco wanted this over with, the quicker the better. He didn't really fancy the idea of any sort of 'celebration.'

"Nothing fancy." Said Jane. "We just want to take you out to dinner."

"Mum, I-" Hermione muttered desperately.

"We want to leave in half an hour." Her father said decisively. There was a definite tone in voice that told Draco the battle was lost.

"I have nothing to wear!" Hermione pleaded, in one final attempt at dissuasion. 

"What about that green dress you wore to Jena's wedding in July?"

Hermione face turned bright red and she mumbled something about it being to fancy.

Draco raised an eyebrow, trying to smile. He leaned back a little and folded his arms.

"It's not too fancy, Hermione. Especially not for the place we're going to."

"But you said you didn't want anything fancy!" Hermione cried. "Those were your words mum, "nothing fancy.""

"Well." Her father said. "By that we meant we're not throwing a party for you."

Hermione looked like she wasn't sure to laugh or cry.

"Go get dressed, love." Her mother whispered, giving her a gentle shove. Hermione left the room completely defeated. Draco couldn't stop himself from chuckling. 

"She can be impossible, can't she?" Said her father knowingly.

_You have no idea._

-

_Great. Just great._

She just wanted to get all this over with. She wanted to be as far from Draco Malfoy as she could be. That way she wouldn't have to look at him and feel whatever it was that was strangling her. Instead, she was now going to have to put on a stupid dress and spent the evening shmoozing her parents and Draco, pretending like everything was business as usual. 

She stomped up the stairs to her room and closed the door a little to hard behind her. Fine, she'd go. She'd smile. She'd even get herself prettied up like her parents wanted her too. Anything to get this over with. Then they could focus on what was important.

She turned her CD player on nearly full blast and walked into her closet. It wasn't hard to locate the dress she'd worn to her cousin's wedding a two months earlier as it was the only one she owned. 

Hermione groaned. It was so…damn. She really didn't have a choice. She sighed at pulled off her shorts and t-shirt. She walked back out to her room and stood in front of her mirror. There was no way she could wear a bra with it. She hated the fact that she owned a dress she couldn't wear a bra with.

Sever minutes later she was very dressed and glaring at her reflection. She sighed again and sat down in front of her mirror. She pulled out a tube of mascara and some bronze eye shadow that matched the flecks scattered in her eyes. She might as well do the thing right…

Of course, a small part of Hermione enjoyed getting dressed up…a very small part. But it just wasn't worth it. It took a lot of work to make her hair suitable for the kind of dress she was wearing. Or at least it had three years ago for the Yule Ball.

Hermione was at least glad that her hair wasn't quite the bushy disaster it had been in her fourth year. It was more curls than frizz now. She let it down from its rubber band and watched in fall over her shoulders. Then she picked it up again and piled it on top of her head, reluctantly liking the way the wispy curls that fell framed her face.

She pulled her wand out of her dresser drawer and pointed it at her head. She muttered a simple holding charm and her hair stayed in place the way she'd put it, more or less. It was simple but it was good enough. She smiled smugly to herself, silently daring her mother to take an issue with it.

She slipped on the shoes that matched the dress and left her room to walk down to the front hall. She didn't look great, but at least she would appease her parents.

She sighed resignedly one last time and held to the banister as she walked down the stairs. How she hated high heels…

-

Draco had gone up to the guest room to change shortly after Hermione. He'd put on black slacks and one of his white shirts. He looked in the mirror and smiled. He'd at least look fit for the occasion. Although he didn't have a jacket or a tie, as he knew was custom for muggles…

He ran a comb through his hair and sprayed a bit of cologne on himself. And that was it. He walked back down the hall to wait for the others in the foyer. As he passed Hermione's door her music was unmistakably loud this time…she must be fairly pissed.

_Splendid._

He found John Granger already waiting, looking very much the part of a well-dressed muggle. He had an extra tie and jacket in his arm. He smiled at Draco and motioned for him to come finish dressing. 

"You'll need these." John said.

Draco nodded, slipping an arm into the black jacket that surprisingly fit him perfectly and then the other. This must have belonged to someone else other that Hermione's father if it fit Draco, who was built differently. But Draco didn't question it.

"Thank you, sir." He said.

The man nodded and said, "Do you know how to put on a tie?"

"Er…"

"I'll do it!" Said Jane Granger, entering the foyer with a bright smile on her face. She looked very nice in a simple black dress, with pearls around her neck. 

She took a dark green tie from her husband and carefully put it around Draco's neck. He thought vaguely that this would be a perfect moment for her took strangle him, but she didn't. And then she was done. She stepped back to admire her work.

"Very handsome." She said, smiling. 

Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Hermione's not down yet?" Her mother said, frowning slightly.

Her father chuckled. "Of course not. She's up there glaring at herself in the mirror, brainstorming last minute excuses to get out of this."

"John…"

"What, dear?"

Draco was struck with a mental image of this and laughed out loud.

"See, Draco knows I'm right." He and Draco shared a knowing grin for a moment which was interrupted by Jane's voice.

"Oh Hermione, you look very lovely."

Draco head snapped up toward the stairs and he saw her. 

The truth was, her mother's word hardly did her justice. As she walked down the stairs and came closer, he wondered if this was the same Hermione he'd seen leave the kitchen half an hour earlier.

She was wearing a green silk dress that hit the floor. It would have been very plain if not for the way it clung to her curves and swayed as she walked. It had narrow sleeves that went up in two lines over her shoulders. Her hair was pulled messily to the top of her head, but it suited her. 

As she came even closer, he noticed she was wearing makeup. Her eyes were dark and her lips were shiny. She smiled at her mother and Draco felt his stomach lurch. If he hadn't been so captivated he might have rebuked himself, reminded himself that she was just a mudblood in a beautiful dress. But as it was…

Hermione walked to her mother's side, completely ignoring Draco. He clenched his jaw and looked at the floor. 

"Put this on, dear. And these."

"No mum." She said with a hint of warning in her voice.

"Don't be silly Hermione, its just jewelry."

Draco looked it the necklace and matching earrings Jane was holding out for her daughter. She was right. They weren't bad at all. They were small and simple. Hermione was just being difficult.

"Give them to me." Draco said firmly, holding his hand out to take the necklace from Jane. 

Hermione froze.

Draco had had enough. He wasn't going to go through the whole night with her pretending he wasn't even there. He walked around behind her and felt his breath catch in his chest. Her back was completely bare. He could see down to her lower back. Her skin was there were small indents on the small of her back, showing that her muscles were well defined. Yet, she looked incredibly womanly. He leaned in close to her to pull the necklace around her and fasten it. Her body was completely rigid, but she smelled like raspberries. 

He remembered her tackling him and smiled as he clasped the necklace. He took her hand and put the earrings in it, then moved away.

"Wonderful! Let's get going." John said, putting his arm around his wife.

"Hermione, would you two prefer to take your car or ride with us?"

_She has her own car?_

Even Draco knew that cars didn't run cheep. He didn't know why he was surprised. The Grangers obviously weren't strapped for cash.

Draco looked at Hermione, who looked at her parents, who looked back at Draco.

Hermione seemed unwilling or unable to speak. She appeared to be having some sort of internal struggle.

"Actually I'd prefer it if you'd drive, sir. I don't think I trust Hermione to get us there alive."

Hermione's head snapped up and she glared at him. If looks could kill…Draco grinned. If there was one constant in the universe, it was that Hermione Granger could always be counted upon to defend her competency.

John Granger chuckled but said, "Then you'll be glad to know that Hermione passed her drivers test with 108 percent."

"Oh course she did…" Draco muttered.

"But if you'd prefer to ride with us, that's all right we me. Unless Hermione has any objections." He looked at his daughter questioningly.

Hermione rolled her eyes and mumbled something as she walked out the doors. She opened the back door to the Grangers' car and slid onto the seat smoothly. Draco walked around to the other side and did the same. He closed the door and looked over at Hermione, who was leaning against the door and looking straight ahead.

She looked physically sick. He watched her for a moment, and then watched as her parents took their seats and the car started to move.

Whoa…Draco had no idea what force was causing the car to move, but at the moment he didn't care. He was more focused on the muscles twitching in his stomach. He swallowed and shut his eyes tightly. He gripped the seat with his hand and held his breath.

Then he heard Hermione chuckling and his eyes snapped open.

"Feeling queasy?" She smirked. Well at least she was looking at his again…

"Shut up, Granger." He muttered, closing his eyes again. And she did.

Several minutes later Draco's stomach had gotten used to car moving and he'd taken to sneaking glances at Hermione again. She just stared ahead. Her body moved slightly with the car. She was crowded up against the door even though there was plenty of room between them.

Draco knew he should be thanking Merlin that she wanted nothing to do with him, but he wasn't happy about it. It was annoying and he was bored. He wanted to get a rise out of her. But he couldn't do that if she kept pretending he didn't exist.

Hermione's parents were busy talking in the front seat. He knew they wouldn't hear him, so he thought for a moment, then chose his words.

"Hold my wand, Granger?"

Hermione looked at him like she'd just had ice dumped over her head.

_Bingo._

"What?" She said, her eyes wide.

"My wand, Granger." He said smoothly, as though this was the most obvious thing in the world. He pulled his wand out of his pocket.

Hermione stared at it, then blushed.

"You thought I was talking about my…? Kinky, Granger."

Hermione blushed even harder, but glared at him.

"I mean, in front of your parents and everything."

He gave her a cocky, suggestive smile and she narrowed her eyes.

"Give me that." She said, snatching his wand from his hand. "I don't trust you with it."

"Hey! Give it back."

"I thought you wanted me to hold it." She challenged.

Draco's mouth snapped shut. The truth was he hadn't though beyond his initial comment, which had been purely for shock value. He couldn't think of a reason he'd _actually_ wanted her to hold his wand. And now she had it and he had nothing.

_Nice going, Draco…_

Draco leaned back against the door and sighed slowly. 

"Take it." She mumbled, tossing him his wand back. "I have no room for it in this…dress." She said the last word with profound annoyance.

"So you didn't bring yours?" He asked, honestly wondering if she'd left it behind.

"I'd didn't say that." She said. For some unknown reason she stared down at her dress, so Draco did the same.

He didn't know when he'd have another excuse to look at her like this, so he took advantage of this one.

She really was quite striking. 

"Malfoy." She said after while in a conversational tone.

"Yes, Granger?"

"I'm going to give you five seconds to stop staring at my chest or I'm going to take that wand back and use it on you."

"Is that a promise?" He said, grinning widely.

She glared right at him, looking him slowly up and down, as though appraising him to see if it was actually worth physically touching him to get him to stop looking at her.

Apparently it wasn't. Draco was disappointed once again. She looked forward again and Draco was left to think. There really was something wrong with her right now. Normally she would have taken any opportunity to verbally spar with him, but right now she looked completely unsettled. Was it because her parents were here? Draco didn't think so. Something else was wrong.

He couldn't pretend for a moment to have any idea of what was going on inside her, but for once, he wished he were one of the people she would trust to tell.

There was still the voice in the back of his head telling him that she was a worthless mudblood slag who could fuck herself and that he was a fool for letting himself question that. But now his own voice was there too. He wanted Lucius Malfoy out of his head. He'd do almost anything to be free of his father and his father's dogma.

"Malfoy."

"What?"

"You're still staring."

-

When Draco had put his hands on her to string the necklace around her skin, she had felt nauseated. This boy who hated her was touching her. She would never tell a soul, but she'd never be able to hate him again.

She felt so much confusion. He could touch her and it was nothing to him, but his touch gave her feeling she didn't want to have. 

When they got in the car she wanted to be as far from him as she could. Maybe if she couldn't feel him near her it would go away. Maybe if she didn't meet his eyes he'd drop off the face of the planet. Then she wouldn't have to feel like she couldn't swallow…

She was used to his mock sexual comments, but this time it didn't strike her as one until a few moments too late.

"Hold my wand, Granger?"

If Hermione had been drinking anything she would have choked on it.

She did her best to be the normal Hermione, hit him back, give him a taste of her own medicine, but now he'd done something truly horrible.

She found herself wondering about Draco's sexual history. He had to have…of course he had. She'd heard stories. She'd found them disgusting at the time and wondered at their credibility. Surely he hadn't slept with _that _many people. And there was no way he was _that _good. But what if he was?

Hermione swallowed hard.

She imagined what it would feel like to have his hands on her. Her body heated up slightly as she looked down at the bare skin on her shoulder and pictured his mouth there.

_What have you done to me?_

Then she felt his eyes. The last thing she needed was his eyes watching her, encouraging her in these perilous thoughts.

Several minutes later the car stopped in front of a very nice restaurant. She didn't wait for the valet to open her door. She needed air. 

This was going to be a long night…

**000**

You may ask when I'm going to resume the unraveling of the mystery of the gun shot. My answer is simply that I'm having too much fun with pure Draco/Hermione-ness. I'll get there, I swear.

Also, you should know that I was truly torn between the idea of having Hermione and Draco go in her car and them riding with her parents. In the end I chose the latter for reasons that will become wonderfully apparent in the next chapter. ;)

Thanks, as always, for reading and reviewing.

__

  
_  
_


	11. Pretending

Disclaimer: I'm not J.K.R and I never will be.

This chapter earns the M rating easily toward the end, so if that bothers you, you might want to skip ahead. You've been warned.

000

Draco once again didn't know what to expect as he entered the restaurant with the three Grangers. He could tell immediately that it was very posh. He did feel comfortable at least. Culture and expensive things were things he was familiar with. 

He looked at Hermione and noticed that she looked very uncomfortable. Whereas Draco was completely at ease in this place and in these clothes, Hermione looked unsure of how to hold herself. She was fidgeting with her hands and straightening her dress, trying to get it to cover as much of her skin as it could.

A thought struck Draco and it made him contract his eyebrows in doubt. Was it possible she didn't know how beautiful she was? 

Maybe she didn't…Draco had certainly never told her and he doubted that Weasley or Potter ever had either. 

The two of them were standing behind her parents, waiting to be seated. He moved closer to her and said, "Stop fidgeting, Granger." He took her hand and pulled it through his arm. They could at least appear as if they belonged there.

Hermione started to pull her hand away but Draco caught it. When she didn't try again Draco smiled. He looked her, wondering if she would be smiling like he was, but she wasn't. She looked pained. Then she turned to him suddenly and looked hard into his eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" She asked quietly.

"Why am I doing what?" He asked.

"This. Holding my hand, talking to me. Smiling at me. Being _nice_ to me. Pretending you don't hate me. Why?"

Wow. She had just said it. Why was he doing all those things? He didn't even know. Well, he did know. But he wouldn't let that thought anywhere near a place he would entertain it.

_That's a good question…_

Draco dropped her hand and looked away. Once again he'd forgotten who he was. His mother's voice echoed in his ears when he saw that Hermione's hand had clenched up as soon as he'd let go of it, as though he'd been a leper. 

_I can't save you, Draco. You have to save yourself._

-

He didn't have the right to touch her like that, to hold her hand. Why was he putting her through this? He hated her. He'd made that very clear with every word and look he'd ever given her. And she could live with that. She could stand him hating her. But it became too much when he tried to pretend he didn't. She didn't know why he was doing it, but it was wrong.

It was even worse that he had no idea what he was doing to her. She wished he would just go back to ignoring or glaring at her. It would make it a lot easier to do the same. But every false smile he gave her made her flinch inwardly. 

Why was this happening? Why couldn't she just look at him and see what she'd always seen- a spoiled, selfish, bigoted bastard?

But no, she had to walk in on him when she wasn't supposed to.

What was so goddamned special about a piano anyway? Lots of people played the piano. Hell, _Hermione _played the piano.

_But not like that…_

But this thought brought an even more terrible one to her attention. Something as simple as Draco playing the piano couldn't possibly have been enough to hit her with this. Was it possible she'd had this in her for a long time, unwilling or unable to face it?

She clenched her hand hard as soon as he let go of it. She'd have given almost anything at that moment to run away and never look back.

But then the host ushered them forward and Hermione was forced to leave that hope behind. This was not Hermione. The real Hermione Granger would never lose her focus over a guy. If she could handle being shot she could handle whatever Draco Malfoy did to her.

A resolve to be strong washed over her and she straightened herself up. She stopped shaking and walked forward, her head held high. She wore a poised smile as she sat down gracefully in her chair. She folded her napkin and stared forward again.

She could feel Draco looking at her again. She could feel his surprise. He thought with satisfaction that he probably expected her to have sense etiquette. It would be at least a little bit of fun to wipe the smug smirk from his face. 

_You're not the only one with expensive manners, Mr. Malfoy._

-

Very suddenly, Hermione had composed herself. For some reason she found the moment and stopped fidgeting. She walked forward and sat down at their table with a lightness he didn't know she possessed. Draco tried not to think about the fact that this change had coincided with him letting go of her hand.

He sat down opposite her, next to her mother.

He looked at Hermione then looked away again when he was handed a menu.

_Not bad…_

The waitress wasn't bad for a muggle either…nothing on Hermione, but-

_Snap out of it Draco!_

He didn't know why he did it, other than that he had a sense it would piss Hermione off, but as the waitress leaned in to point at something on the menu, he leaned back and gave her a sexy wink. She grinned back at him and proceeded to take their orders.

He didn't even look at Hermione to see if she'd seen the exchange. He knew it would bug her more that way.

"So, Draco." John Granger said from across the table.

"Yes sir." Draco answered nonchalantly.

"Where were you raised?" He asked. Draco had a feeling he was about to answer a lot of questions.

"Wiltshire." He answered promptly.

"Smashing."

Draco nodded.

And then Jane chimed in. "And what do you like to do with yourself?"

Draco resisted he urge to raise his eyebrows. He wondered if she realized the implications of her question. He decided she didn't. "You mean, what am I interested in?"

"Yes, that's what I mean."

"I play Quidditch." Draco answered.

"Oh yes. Hermione's told us about that. It's the game on brooms."

Draco smiled. They really were trying. 

"Are you good at Quidditch?" John asked.

"I'm not bad." Draco answered confidently. He found the need to assure them of his worth in anyway he could, irrational as it was. He figured that Hermione had told them just how wonderful Saint Potter was on a broomstick.

"And what else?" Asked John.

Draco did raise his eyebrows this time.

"We really don't know much about you, other than what you did for our daughter." Said Jane, smiling at him fondly.

"Well you'd have to ask her for details Mrs. Granger." He said. "I really wouldn't know where to start."

He was pawning off rights to the conversation to Hermione, unwilling to divulge more about himself. Plus, it would be fun to see Hermione struggle with what to say and not say about him, not to mention enlightening.

He could tell that John Granger knew exactly what was going on, but he played along. It was a guy thing.

"Hermione," Her father said, turning his head toward her. "How do you feel about Draco?"

Hermione choked into her water. Interesting…

"What?" She said in a hoarse voice.

"Is Draco as good with his broomstick as he boasts?" Her mother said.

Hermione looked momentarily horrified. Draco bit his lip and hid his chuckle behind his hand then looked at Hermione expectantly.

She stared at her mother for a long moment then said, "Can we change the subject?"

"Oh." Her mother said surprised. Apparently she could think of no conceivable reason why Hermione would not want to discuss Draco's proficiency with his 'broomstick.'

Draco looked at John Granger who had his head bent down low and was scratching his eyebrow. Draco had the strong feeling that Hermione's father was doing his very best not to laugh.

Hermione looked around at everyone at the table, wide-eyed. Draco winked at her and she stood up suddenly.

"May I be excused, daddy?" She asked in a high voice.

John cleared his throat carefully before speaking. "Of course you may, dear." He stood up politely, helping Hermione move from her chair.

Hermione almost sprinted to the ladies room.

The moment she was out of sight and earshot both Draco and John Granger burst out laughing. Draco more so than John. He hadn't laughed this hard in a long, long time. After a minute or so he wiped actual tears from his eyes as the waitress brought their food to the table.

"What's so funny?" Jane asked, bewildered.

The waitress looked questioningly at Hermione's empty seat and her mother said she'd be back shortly.

And with that Draco looked at his food with longing. He was surprisingly hungry. He wished Hermione would hurry back so he could start eating.

-

Hermione got to the bathroom as quickly as she could and closed and locked the door behind her. She leaned over the counter to look in the mirror. Her breathing was hurried and her face was flushed. 

That was an ambush. That's what it was… She knew her mother hadn't purposely cornered her, but her father and Draco were right snipes. Her mother's seemingly innocent question had reminded her once again of her attraction to Draco. 

As much as she hated to admit it, Draco was simply a work of art, physically. Let's keep that straight.

Ginny Weasley had never hated Draco with the passion that Hermione had. Ginny had insisted for years that had Draco not been such a bastard she wouldn't have hesitated for a moment to "jump his bones."

Hermione was beginning to see it from Ginny's point of view. The hair, and the eyes…oh God the eyes. They were so grey she felt like he could literally pierce her every time she looked into them. Draco had stopped slicking his hair back after their fifth year. Now he wore it so that it fell straight over his forehead. He'd taken to sweeping off his eyes casually with a finger. Every time he did it every single girl in a twenty foot radius shivered.

Every girl except Hermione. She usually just rolled her eyes at how shallow teenage girls could be. But as she looked in the mirror an image of him brushing his blond hair off his forehead and winking flashed in her mind and she groaned.

_Get a hold of yourself, Hermione. He's hot, get over it._

She knew if she waited in the bathroom much longer it would look suspicious, so she gave herself a stern look and marched back to the table resolutely. She'd be ready for whatever was thrown at her this time. And if he did the hair thing…

_No Hermione!_

-

Hermione sat down and looked Draco right in the eyes. Her stare said clearly, "I dare you."

She began eating her food and everyone else followed suit.

The conversation drifted from what was going on at work to the weather to Hermione and Draco's Head positions.

Draco was polite, even charming. When they were finished eating Hermione's father asked her mother to dance and they swept away from the table leaving Draco and Hermione in uncomfortable silence.

Draco glanced at Hermione, who was staring at the couples on the dance floor with a vacant expression on her face. Draco made a quick decision. This was just too great an opportunity to pass up.

He got up quickly from the table, startling Hermione. He strolled purposefully around to her side of the table and took her hand.

"Come on, Granger."

"Malfoy, what are you-?"

"We're going to dance." He didn't know if she knew how to dance well, but he knew he was a strong partner. He could lead her easily.

She looked too flustered to fight him. When they reached the middle of the dance floor, he put his right hand firmly on her back and pulled her up against him. Her body was rigid and she wasn't breathing.

"Oh come off it, Granger. I'm not that repulsive."

He felt her relax a little, though she still looked taken aback. She pulled back her head and looked into his eyes with a hard expression. He wondered what she was thinking. But then the band started playing and he began to move them around in a slow circle.

Hermione was still uncomfortable but after a minute or so of him leaning in to her, she relaxed slowly. Her body was soft against his. She felt wonderful. His pressed his hand on her lower back a little harder and leaned his head down so that his mouth was close to her neck.

Hermione let out a shaky sigh and he knew he had her.

"Admit it Granger." He whispered into her ear. "You want me. You want me to do the things you've heard I can do."

She didn't say anything or react at all, so he continued. This was too much fun. She couldn't run away, he was holding her tight. Her parents were very close to them so she couldn't tell him to bugger off or slap him. He could say whatever he wanted to her. He could make her angry and she couldn't do anything about it.

"You want me to come to you in the night and taste you, everywhere." Her breath caught in her chest and he grinned. Really, this was too much fun.

"You want me to touch you, everywhere." He moved his hand a little lower on her back and she tried to pull away.

"No Granger, I want to enjoy this. You're going to remember this. How it felt to have your body against mine. How it felt to have your lips this close to mine, my breath on your skin." At this he blew softly on the nape of her neck.

"Stop it, Malfoy." Hermione hissed. She jerked away angrily. He chuckled until he saw the look on her face. She looked absolutely miserable.

"Jesus, Granger." He said, shocked by the way she was taking this. He'd wanted to get under her skin, not send her completely over the edge.

"Damn you, Malfoy." She whispered.

She was being ridiculous, he'd only been joking.

"What is your problem Granger?" He said heatedly.

"You are my problem!" She retorted fiercely

"I didn't do anything to you!" He responded indignantly. He threw his hands into the air.

"You have no idea what you've done to me."

And with that she walked away, leaving him to stand there in shock.

_What the fuck was that supposed to mean?_

_-_

Hermione ran out the side door to the restaurant as fast she could then fell back against the brick wall. She put her hands over her face and tried to gain control of herself. Her heart was racing in her body was shaking. As Draco had said those things to her, she'd been mortified. 

She remembered back on the train when he'd said something like that. It had been easy to shove it back in face then. But now, it wasn't fair for him to play with her like that. It made it even worse that it was a joke.

She had felt so electric in his arms. She would have been okay with it. She would have been fine to just dance with him. But then he had to push it further.

Just as she was feeling nauseous the door burst open next to her and Draco came out in a storm. She stood up straight and backed away recklessly.

"Stay away from me Malfoy!" She yelled.

He advanced her with a furious look on his face. "No, Granger. I'm not leaving you alone until you tell me what the fuck is going on."

"_Nothing_ is going on!" She was almost hysterical.

"Then why did you just run out on me like I'd bitten you?" He asked angrily.

"Just leave me alone!"

"No!" He yelled, moving closer.

She was backed up against the wall now. He had her cornered. Hermione didn't know what she was going to do. 

"Please Malfoy. You have to stop this. Stop pretending."

"What are you talking about?" He asked confusedly.

Hermione bit her lip. "You touch me, you talk to me, you wink at me. But you _hate_ me."

"What do you care, Granger?" He snarled. "You hate me too!"

Hermione wished so much that it was true.

She closed her eyes tightly, hoping that when she opened them he'd be gone, that she'd wake up in her own bed far from here and far from him, far from this feeling.

But when she opened them he was even closer. She could feel it happening and she didn't think she could take it. He stared hard at her with a fire in his eyes and then his lips were on hers.

All her strength left her as he wrapped his arms so tight around her she couldn't breathe. But she didn't need to breathe, she just needed to touch him. 

Every emotion she'd ever felt toward him, the anger, the hate, the confusion, the desire, it all felt like a fire inside her as she open her mouth and he thrust his tongue in and moaned. She whimpered into his mouth and he pushed his body up against hers as hard as he could. It would have almost hurt if she hadn't been doing the same. 

She wove her fingers through his hair and kissed him as fiercely as she knew how. And he did the same.

_Oh God…_

She was gone. She was totally at his mercy.

"God almighty, Granger." He groaned against her mouth. "Do you have any idea what you do to me?"

She had a pretty good idea…

"I'm so hard..." He moaned painfully. And she gasped. She hadn't even noticed. She looked down and she could see it, even in the dark. And she could feel it, against her lower abdomen. 

He pulled her head up with his chin and kissed her again. This time a little more slowly, though still with the same ferocity. She felt his hands travel down to her lower back and he spoke again.

"I want to take you right here, Granger."

She had no idea how he could form a complete sentence, she was having trouble stringing a single thought to another. She felt a heat burning between her legs that she'd never felt before. She moved closer up against his leg to ease some of the tension. She just wanted to be closer.

This was so wrong. She knew she'd regret letting him touch her. But she couldn't stop. Just as his hands were slipping inside her dress from behind, the decision was taken out of her hands.

"Hermione?" Her mother's voice called from inside the restaurant. She pushed Draco away from her hard. They met eyes for an instant then Hermione straightened herself and walked back through the door she'd come out of.

Only a few seconds later her sense returned to her and she realized what she'd almost let happen. This was bad.

She'd forgotten for a moment that he was pretending. She'd let him use her. She choked back the tears that threatened to spill and sat back down at the table. If her mother and father noticed anything, they didn't mention it. Though they were so wrapped up in each other at the moment, she doubted they would have noticed if she'd thrown something at them. She was very glad that her parents loved each other. It made things much easier.

-

Hermione had left Draco in the alley with a throbbing erection more confusion than he'd ever felt. One moment he'd been shouting at her and the next he'd almost come in his trousers. She hadn't even touched his penis and he was so close it would only have taken one motion to send him over the edge. 

This was a first. Normally Draco could last hours before he'd have an orgasm, but just the feel of Hermione's body against his had thrown his control out the window.

He was so hard it was painful to move. He quickly reached inside his trousers to finish what Hermione's tongue in his mouth had started. It only took three quick strokes and he exploded with a force that sent him stumbling back against the wall. 

His legs buckled and he groaned loudly.

If this ever happened again, God help him…

**000**

I wanted to sort of spring that on you. God knows you've all waited patiently…lol I hope it was a pleasant surprise. I wanted to get that in before the story before the mystery plot starts to take over. It won't happen like that for a while again. I promise it will though. There's still so much more to come.

Thanks as always!


	12. Resigned To the Worst

There will be a lot of author's notes at the end, until then, just bare with me.

Disclaimer: Obviously there is always a danger that someone will accuse me of stealing Jo's story, but at the moment I'm more worried about the death threats I will inevitably be bombarded with very shortly.

000

Draco walked quickly back into the restaurant, putting his customary aloof façade on as best he could. He'd just come completely undone, but nobody would know. He looked at Hermione and saw that she had done the same thing. Good. Nobody had to know, ever.

He couldn't believe what had just happened. It was like something had taken control of him. He'd been unable to stop himself. The command over his emotions and actions he normally possessed had abandoned him when he'd needed it the most.

As astounded as he was that he'd almost taken Hermione Granger up against a wall, he was more astounded that she'd let him. She hadn't pushed him away. The moment he'd touched her she lost control of herself. Why?

It was all physical, he knew that. She hated him and he felt the same way, most of the time.

_It was that damned dress! _

Anyone would have wanted her in that dress. So he was attracted to her, it didn't mean anything. They'd lost their heads for a moment but that's all it was.

_But she tasted so good…_

Still, it didn't matter. He'd taken what he wanted and now it was over. It was better this way. If he'd done it, if he'd actually had sex with her, things would be much more difficult. But he hadn't. He'd evaded a potentially deadly situation.

He sat down at the table across from Hermione, who was now speaking normally to her mother. He stared at his hands fixedly. Hermione was nothing special. She was just a mudblood made up to be beautiful for one night.

But then Draco did something stupid. He looked up at Hermione and for one moment and remembered her with no makeup and no dress. A vision of her sitting on her bed and smiling flashed into his mind, and all the talking he'd just done to himself was undone.

He felt physically sick as he looked away again quickly. He could hear Hermione conversing lightly with her mother but it was muddled. He wasn't listening. She stood up and he didn't notice. Not until her father's hand rested on his shoulder did he realize that they were leaving.

He got up quickly and followed the Grangers to the curb. What seemed only a moment later the valet pulled the car up and Draco absently slid into his seat. He kept himself from looking at Hermione out of sheer will. He was in deep shit, and he knew it. But no one else had to.

-

Hermione's mind was racing, but years of resolve in the face of conflict had taught her how to appear in control. As she sat down in the car she stared ahead blankly.

She was terrified of what had just happened, but it had also made things easier. Malfoy hated her and openly admitted it, but he hadn't hesitated to take advantage of her in her moment of weakness.

She'd begged him to stop pretending, to leave her alone. But he'd used her. She didn't think she could ever forgive him of that. She hardened herself in that moment. She forced herself to remember every time he'd called her a mudblood, every sneer he'd ever given her, and how much she detested him. She made a conscious decision to close herself off from his influence.

And with that he was gone.

She had a job to do. He was here because he had to be. And she would never, never let him take advantage of her again.

A tiredness filled her like she hadn't felt in her whole life and she leaned against the window, overcome. She closed her eyes and let everything fall away until she was left in quiet slumber.

-

Draco wondered if Hermione was going through the torment he was suffering. He felt like something had wrecked him. It was as though there was something inside him tearing him apart and the harder he tried to fight it the more demolishing it became.

Finally his will crumbled and he turned his head to look at Hermione. He needed to look into her eyes and know what was there. But he couldn't look into her eyes. They were closed, and she was sleeping. He wondered if she was feigning sleep to avoid him, but he could hear her. Her breathing was deep and even and her face was tranquil. She wasn't pretending.How could she sleep? After what had just happened, how could she find enough peace to let go of consciousness? Draco doubted he'd be able to sleep for years to come.

He knew he shouldn't have, but he let himself watch her.

And then he heard it, that song again. The one she'd been listening to in her room. Hermione's parents were chatting over the radio but through the speaker behind him he could hear every word clearly. He hadn't paid close attention to the lyrics the first time, but now he clung to every word because they were hers.

'_And I wonder this, could tomorrow be so wondrous as you there sleeping?'_

He heard the words as she breathed deeply and a strand of hair fell over her eye. Draco swallowed hard, then forced himself to look away. For the remainder of the journey he looked out the window and watched the lights pass. He leaned his temple lightly against the glass and closed his eyes.

'_Am I right side up or upside down?'_

_-_

When they pulled into the Grangers' driveway ten minutes later Draco felt slightly numb. He reached over tentatively to shake Hermione awake.

"Are we home?" She mumbled sleepily.

The question was apparently rhetorical, since she immediately sat up and opened her door. Draco got out of the car and walked in the doors to the house behind Hermione and her parents.

"Well," Her father said, turning to both Hermione and Draco. "Shall we get to business?" He wanted to talk about what they'd come to figure out in the first place.

Hermione shook her head in reply. "Not tonight, Dad. It's been a long day. I'm really tired. Can we do this tomorrow?"

"Of course. If you're sure you'd rather wait." He said.

Draco watched the scene mutely, wondering why Hermione wanted to put off discussing her attack.

"I am sure. I need sleep." She said, smiling simply at her father. "Thanks for dinner though. You were right, it was fun."

And with that she turned and began to walk toward the staircase. Draco knew if Hermione was going to bed there was no point in staying up. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, but he'd be glad to be alone.

He gave a gracious nod to Hermione's parents and followed her. Hermione looked over her shoulder and said, "goodnight," before turning back to walk up the stairs.

Draco was right in her line of sight but she looked right passed him, as though he were invisible. She really did look tired.

He walked up the stairs behind her quietly, only a few feet from her. It was clear that she had no intention of acknowledging him at all, but Draco couldn't let that happen. When she reached her door and open it Draco spoke quickly.

"Granger, wait." He expected her to ignore him and keep walking, but she didn't. She turned swiftly to meet him. There was a coldness in her eyes that he'd never seen before, not even when she'd hit him in their third year. It was pure loathing. It terrified him, but Draco stared hard into the cold, wanting to understand.

As he looked at her he felt ripped apart and he just wanted to quiet the storm. Instinctively he took a step toward her. But no sooner than he'd moved her voice came like a knife, piercing him to the core.

"No." She said in a quiet, icy tone. "No. Don't ever touch me again."

She gave him one final ice-filled glare then walked into her room. She closed her door softly but she might as well have slammed in his face for the way it struck him. He would have preferred she screamed and stormed at him to the icy fury in her voice.

He stood in the hall in total shock for a long time before walking to the guest room and closing the door behind him. What he done that was so terrible, that would cause that kind of hate?

Sure, he'd kissed her, but she'd kissed him back. Hadn't she?

He sank back onto the bed fully clothed and put his head into his hands. It was his fault and he knew it. It was like an anvil on his chest. He'd slipped up. He'd let himself feel. He'd been warned long ago only he could save himself, yet he'd let it happen. And now it was too late, the damage was done.

And he knew it more clearly than ever as he sat there with his head buried in his hands. As much as he wanted for it not to be true, he knew it when he looked at her. He couldn't deny it any more than he could turn the night to day. He was in love with Hermione Granger.

But as surely as he knew that, he knew with equal certainty that it didn't matter. He was resigned to the worst, to whatever it brought him. But he knew that it would never mean anything. She would never feel anything for him but the loathing he'd seen in her eyes and heard in her voice.

But if that was the way it was going to be, so be it. She could hate him; he could live with that. He was a Malfoy, and nothing could break him.

And with that, a strange calm swept over him and he fell back into a deep sleep, where he dreamt of Hermione and the song that was hers.

**000**

Okay, so I know that many of you are hating me right now, or thinking of turning your back on this story, but I swear, Draco and Hermione are meant to be together. None of us can deny it and I wouldn't dream of ending a fic any other way. Just keep that in mind, and that this story is far from over. I will deliver.

To anyone who read the last chapter and was offended or grossed out by the scene at the end, this fic is rated M for a reason and has been since the beginning. What did you expect? lol  
If that bothered you, I can tell you that wasn't the last of it. Again, this story is far from over. ;)

Thanks for all the kind reviews and to Pantheras Rebellion- I have read 'A World Apart.' It's one of my favorites, it's the one that got me truly hooked on D/Hr. So yours was quite a compliment! Thank you very much.

As for my choice of songs, aside from the fact that I love Crush with a passion, it just fit like nothing else could. Whether you like it or not, it really is perfect in my opinion.

Everyone, if you haven't read Pansy's Volcano, do so immediately.

The Dragon's Bride. Those two fics can be found on Coloured Grey. FF won't let me link directly, so google Coloured Grey and read them.

The Ends of the Earth and A World Apart are both fantastic and can be found here on FF. Check them out.

Those are my fic recs for now, enjoy!


	13. A Clear Plan To Follow

In the morning Draco didn't wait for Hermione to wake him. He knew his way down to the kitchen and he knew she wouldn't have bothered to rouse him anyway, judging by last night's fiasco. 

It was very early, before sunrise, even. Draco rolled over and knew he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, so he got out of bed and walked down to the kitchen to make himself a cup of coffee.

If only he could make sense of everything. 

His thoughts from the night before were still clear to him. He knew with a surety his feelings for Hermione and had given up on trying to convince himself they weren't there. It took more energy to fight with them than to suffer through them, but loving Hermione was a weakness he would have to hide.

Draco groggily made himself a cup of Columbian Roast and sat down. He looked around the kitchen and didn't know where to find creamer or sugar, but it didn't matter since he preferred his coffee black.

He sat down on the bar stool he'd occupied yesterday while eating a corn dog and leaned forward, his bare chest resting lightly on the tiled counter. Sipping his coffee and staring ahead, he wondered what Hermione looked like asleep in her bed. He was glad she wasn't up because he didn't want to fight with her.

He chuckled to himself as he realized that only a few days ago he wouldn't have hesitated to barge into her room at the crack of dawn to wake her up _just_ so he could fight with her.

The first light of morning was now pouring in through the window next to the table and it made the light he'd turned on to make the coffee superfluous. He got up and crossed the room to flick the switch off. He wanted to watch the blue tinted light as it grew brighter.   
He leaned back against the wall and sighed solemnly. 

This moment was a new dawn in so many ways.

-

_Coffee…_

Hermione couldn't remember when she'd ever felt so dead. Normally mornings were easy for her. She almost always popped out of bed ready and excited for the new day and the promise of new experiences. But today her body felt like it had been run over by a train. She was so tired…

Still, today was the day they were going to get down to business. She'd come home to enlist her parents' help and had been unavoidably sidetracked by…things. But no more. 

As she rolled out of bed, Hermione reminded herself again how important it was that they get to the bottom of this as soon as possible. She was missing her final year at Hogwarts for this. She had left her friends and her Head Girlship because Dumbledore had decided she was old enough to take responsibility in finding the truth. 

And she didn't know how much longer she could take being around Malfoy…

Wearing a dressing gown around the house wasn't something she normally did, but it was early and she knew that her parents always slept a little later. She peeked her head out her door and saw that Draco's door was still closed. Good. She relaxed as she made her way down the stairs.

As she walked into the almost completely dark kitchen she thought first of the dry taste in her mouth and the wonders that drenching it in hot coffee would do for her energy level. 

"You're up early, Granger." Commented a smooth voice from behind her.

After nearly jumping out of her skin, she turned around to glare at Draco Malfoy. She was more than a little distracted when she saw what Malfoy was wearing, or more importantly, wasn't wearing.

Her angry insult was caught in her throat as her mesmerized eyes rebelliously scanned his body. She'd known he was hot, but actually having his mostly naked body right in front of her was what some would call 'a rude awakening.'

Only a short pair of loose blue boxer shorts made of a light material covered him. His milky skin almost glowed. Even in the pale light she could see the outlines of his well-defined muscles. She stared at his broad shoulders and perfectly sculpted arms and abdomen until her eyes finally rested on his face.

He was smiling simply at her, leaning back elegantly against the wall with a cup of coffee in his hands. His platinum hair was messy and a little crumpled, but it only added to the way it fell gracefully over his eye.

A sudden image of herself pinned up against a wall in his arms, and the taste of his hungry lips came to her, and that feeling she'd had between her legs in that moment of abandon came to her again.

Hermione became suddenly aware of her own lack of modest clothing. She wrenched the sides of her robe together, covering legs that had been visible up to her high thighs, and pushing the image of last night away. She crossed her arms uncomfortably over her now covered chest and resumed glaring at him as best she could, considering her mind still wasn't all there.

Draco shifted his weight and Hermione belligerently stopped herself from watching the way his muscles flexed as he did. 

"Don't worry, Granger. I wasn't looking. At least, no more than you were." He had that smile again…

Hermione wanted to come up with a clever retort. She wanted to wipe the smile of his face with some sharp insult, but the only thing she could manage was, "Out."

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. "I'm not finished with my coffee."

"You're spying on me!" Hermione said, frustrated.

At this Draco really did laugh, making Hermione even angrier. He was mocking her now…

"How could I be spying on you Granger? I got here first." 

She knew he was right, but couldn't think of a better way to state her irritation. She was very annoyed that she couldn't articulate anything like she normally could, and she blamed in on his lack of clothing.

"Go put a shirt on!" She blurted.

His grin got even bigger and she felt blood rushing to her face. He stared at her for a moment then pushed himself easily off the wall. Hermione instinctively took a step away. 

"Fine." He said casually. "If it bothers you." He sat his coffee down on the counter and turned to go, stretching his arms high so that every muscle in his back flexed perfectly for a moment. And there was something else…

Hermione's breath caught in her chest when she saw it. In the pale light she couldn't see it clearly, but it was there. Draco Malfoy had a tattoo. As soon as she'd seen it he was gone. She hadn't been able to see what it was exactly, and she resisted the urge to follow and get a closer look.

She stood rooted to her spot for a moment before pulling her robe together even more tightly.

She literally shook her head as she mentally tried to shake herself back into reality. Why did he have to be so good-looking? Was it too much to ask for his outside to match his inside?

Hermione had always been above such shallowness, but that was before she'd quite literally had it thrust upon her. Until recently, she'd always scoffed and rolled her eyes at the girls who seemed to disregard the fact that Malfoy was an insufferable bastard when they lusted after him. She always tried to look at who a person truly was. Look at Neville! He wasn't exactly what one could call attractive, but he truly was worth ten of Malfoy.

Hell, look at Hermione herself! She was the textbook description of plain. Sure, she had a few nice features, but she was certainly in no shape to be judging others on their physical appearance. 

She was disgusted with herself for allowing her thoughts to dwell on Malfoy's body for even a single moment longer than the one it took to dismiss him.

She'd told him never to touch her again, and she meant it.

-

Hermione Granger really was beautiful. She was even beautiful when she was angry. Draco had been unable to hide his smile as she tossed her head heatedly. He'd also been unable to miss the awestruck look on her face when she looked his body over. That had made him smile even more.

Sure, she hated him with a fiery passion. He knew that. But it was plainly obvious that she found him attractive…that was something, right?

He went to his top drawer and pulled out a plain white t-shirt and his wand- his magical wand. Two minutes later he was back in the kitchen. Hermione was now toasting a bagel in the muggle way. She looked over her shoulder as he came in the door and gave him a cold, yet satisfied look. When she turned back to spread crème cheese over her bagel, Draco took a moment to tilt his head and enjoy the way the almost sheer fabric of her robe clung to her.

He picked up his coffee from the bar and sat down on a stool.

"Toss us one of those bagels." He said casually.

Hermione did just that, though a little carelessly. She clearly didn't care if it landed anywhere near him. Draco rolled his eyes and lazily flicked his wand to accio the bagel.

He toasted it the same way and within moments needed the crème cheese. He could have asked Hermione for it, but where would the fun in that be?

"Accio." He muttered, and then watched as it came sailing obediently to his open hand. Hermione turned as it went and gritted her teeth. Draco gave her a devilish grin then began to spread the cheese over his bagel.

"You are so lazy." She said, irritated. "You used magic instead of walking five feet."

"Yes, well…" He said conversationally. "Frankly I'd rather not risk touching you and getting my head bit off, or worse." He stared pointedly at her and took a bite.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something but wasn't given the chance as her parents walked in the door sleepily. 

"Oh!" Her mother said brightly. "You two are up, wonderful."

"Good morning." Draco said politely. And for some reason Hermione glared openly at him.

He gave her a look that said, "What is your problem?" She rolled her eyes and then turned to her parents, giving them a warm smile Draco had wondered if she still knew how to give. Draco smiled to himself.

"Mum, dad." Hermione said. "I hate to spring this on you so early, but-"

"You want to talk with us about what happened to you." Her father said. 

Hermione nodded.

"We were planning on it Minnie." Her mother said, and Draco choked into his now tepid coffee.

Hermione ignored him and went on. "Right then. Why don't we all sit down."

The three Grangers walked into the adjoining family room and sat down- John and Jane in a love seat and Hermione on the couch. Draco followed and sat down on the opposite end of the couch. He leaned back onto the soft cushions and waited for someone to speak.

"We talked to Professor Dumbledore and Arthur Weasley, dear-"

Draco scowled darkly to himself. He was extremely irritated that Hermione's parents were on a first name basis with Ron Weasley's. Not that he would want them ever speaking to either of his own…

"Arthur told us that the bullet that hit you leg," At this Hermione's mother shuddered and Draco couldn't blame her. "Isn't like a normal bullet. It doesn't have the normal markings that it should have, and it has initials on it."

"C.E.S." Hermione said, nodding.

"Right." Her father said. "Now, we've talked about it, and your mother did some research on the Internet about guns."

Hermione smiled and Draco grinned to himself. That was exactly what Hermione would have done, like daughter like mother.

"But really nothing we found was specific enough to tell us why a bullet wouldn't have markings or why it would have initials engraved into it."

At this Hermione eyebrows contracted in consternation. 

"But-" Her father said, holding up a finger. "We did some more looking about and we found the names of a few weaponry experts in London."

"Oh!" Said Hermione, and Draco smiled again. They were very thorough. Draco had thought this discussion would be much more longwinded.

"We have a list of several gun dealers and experts that we'll give to you."

"Wow, thanks." Hermione said. 

"Yes, well…" Jane said. "We would have gone ourselves but Professor Dumbledore seemed to want the two of you to do this on your own." She said this slightly resentfully.

She looked at her daughter with worry in her eyes, but with a glance from her husband, she smiled. "But I know you Hermione. You can handle anything."

"Thanks, mum." Hermione said. Then she got up and hugged her mother. Jane smiled genuinely as she wrapped her arms around Hermione and Draco turned his eyes way, though he didn't know why.

"Well." John said. "That's all the help we can offer. You two can leave as soon as you're ready. Be careful."

"Thanks, and we will." Said Hermione, standing up straight. "I love you." She said pleasantly. And with that, she walked out of the room to go get ready for the day, without so much as glancing at Draco. Not that he was surprised.

Draco stared straight ahead and closed his eyes a little, trying to take out the stinging he felt from the scene that had just taken place. When he opened his eyes he found both the grangers standing up. 

Jane smiled sympathetically at him and said, "Don't worry Draco, she'll come around."

"Wha-" Draco began to say in confusion, his face flushing. But Jane left the room quickly. Draco reached up and scratched his eyebrow, his head tilted down.

John chuckled and left the room behind his wife.

_Jesus, is it that obvious?_

-

Hermione loved her parents. She knew they'd be able to help and she was right. They'd given her a clear plan and ever set her in the right direction. Her mind was rolling with the possibilities of what a weapon expert might be able to tell them about the bullet. 

Her only regret was that Malfoy would be tagging along.

She showered and dressed quickly in jeans and a plain white tank top. She pulled her hair up and went down to see her parents off to work. She was surprised to find Draco already there and looking perfect as usual. Still, if they were going to be out and about in muggle London, he was going to get awfully uncomfortable in dress slacks and a button-up shirt. Not that that bothered her…

She sighed resolutely. 

"We're going to need to get you some real clothes, Malfoy." She said frankly.

He turned to glare superiorly at her. He tilted his chin up and said, "What do you mean, _real_ clothes, Granger. These trousers alone cost more than your entire wardrobe."

Hermione rolled her eyes. They were back to the money thing. Did he honestly think the price of his trousers was something she'd be insulted by?

"Malfoy, I don't care how much your pants cost. The plain fact is that you look like you just stepped out of GQ and you will attract attention to us."

"What the fuck is 'GQ'?" He asked, shaking his head.

"Never mind." Hermione said, waving her hand. 

"No, I mind." He said, challengingly. "You bring up muggle references, assuming I have no idea what you're talking about. Then you act like I'm completely dense for not knowing. It's patronizing and I'm bloody sick of it. You brought it up so tell me, what's GQ?" He folded his arms and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Hermione stared at him, then opened her mouth, and then closed it again. She'd rather have eaten her own fist than tell him he looked like a male model. But there was no way around it. She'd dug the hole and now she had to deal with the consequences.

"It's a muggle magazine." She said bluntly.

"Uh huh." He said. "And why do I look like I just stepped out of it?"

"Because it's a magazine adorned with…. attractively dressed people." She said through gritted teeth.

At this Draco grinned dashingly. "So you're saying you find me sexy, Granger?" He said in a suave voice that made her want to throw something at him.

Hermione bit her lip and glared at him.

"That's good to know." He said, winking at her.

Hermione scoffed. "You wish." 

"Obviously." 

She opened her mouth to ask him what the hell that meant, but before she had any more time to ponder it, her parents arrived in the foyer to head to work.

"Well you two." Hermione's father said, still fastening his tie. "Have a good day, and good luck." He looked right at Draco and gave him a look that clearly said, "I'm trusting you, don't do anything stupid."

Draco gave John Granger a single nod to show he'd understood.

"Jane?" John said.

"Yes, I'm ready. Can we expect you two for dinner tonight?"

Draco looked at Hermione, deferring to her.

Hermione nodded, "Yeah."

Hermione's parents walked out the door and Draco was left to stare awkwardly at Hermione and to notice her bare arms for the first time. He had to admit he was significantly overdressed compared to her.

"So," he said. "Where in muggle London does one buy clothes."

Hermione raised her eyebrows, and then smirked. "So you're admitting you need different clothes?" The corners of her mouth twitched supremely.

Draco rolled his eyes. Really she could be annoying…

"Don't push your luck, Granger. Let's go."

Hermione seemed to think he'd been satisfactorily put in his place, so she simply said. "Acquaint."

"What?"

"That's where we'll go to buy clothes." She said, as though this were the most obvious thing in the world.

"I'm going to need an address, Granger. Unless you want me to guess I have no way to apparate."

"I'll be back." She said. "Stay here."

"Where else would I go?"

She didn't answer. She disappeared up the stairs to her room and Draco was left to contemplate how irritating she could be. He pulled out his wand and began to twirl it mindlessly in his fingers.

He looked around the foyer and thought of the scene that had taken place earlier. He began to wonder why it bothered him so much when Hermione hugged her mother. No, that wasn't it. It was that Hermione's mother had hugged her back. 

Draco had never hugged his parents. At least not that he could remember, so really there was no reason to be upset. Hugging was overrated. He frowned as he thought of how much his world had changed in less than one week.

And then Hermione was back, this time carrying a jacket over her arm, her wand, a piece of paper Draco assumed had the names and addresses of weapon experts written on it, and a little plastic bag carrying the bullet that was the cause of all his current problems.

"Shall we?" Hermione asked.

Draco muttered grudgingly and Hermione took that to mean that he was in fact ready to leave.

" 38 Monmouth Street, London, WC2H 9EP." She said.

And with that, the two of them disapparated.

**000**

Right then. Obviously this chapter was fun to write because who in their right mind wouldn't want to see Draco in his boxer shorts?

Sorry for the delay in posting it. I ended up having to do quite a bit of research, which I didn't use. It will come up in a later chapter, so it wasn't all for nothing. It would just have been too much too soon to stick it in this chapter.

So yeah. Keep up the reviews!

Amanda

7-28-06


	14. The Girl He Loved

**Disclaimer: Don't sue me, I'm poor.**

Dedicated to ReWritten-string-of-stories, who did the same for me.

**000**

"Okay, you're going to need jeans, a few shirts, definitely new shoes…" Hermione said, looking condescendingly at Draco's dress shoes.

"Once again, Granger, you show your complete ignorance in matters of taste. These shoes are custom made, they cost-"

"Oh shut up, Malfoy." Said Hermione, annoyed with his arrogance. "Come on."

The two of them walked into Acquaint and Hermione looked around with a smile on her face. She'd never been much into fashion as a general rule, but she'd always loved this store.

"Okay, the men's section is over there, let's go." She pointed and motioned to the left side of the store.

"Granger, I don't need your help to shop. Run along, I'll come find you when I'm done." Draco said in a lofty manner.

_This ought to be rich…_

If Draco thought he could put together a muggle outfit on his own, more power to him. He was setting himself up for ridicule. She hoped he knew that.

"Fine." She said indifferently. "I'll be off that way." And with that she strolled quickly off to browse the women's section. As girly as it was, she loved to try on clothes, as long as no one saw her in them. And as long as they weren't too fancy.

A well-dressed employee came to her to ask her if she was finding everything okay. Hermione said she was and that if she needed anything she'd let Beth- that was her name – know.

-

Draco sighed in relief as Hermione traipsed off to her side of the store. The last thing he wanted was her incessant commentary on every single thing he looked at. He was perfectly capable of deciding for himself what he would buy.

He went to the jeans section first and started pulling things in his waist size of the shelf. A man came up to Draco and asked him if he needed any help. Draco considered telling the man to sod off, but decided he could probably save some time by telling the man his measurements.

"And how tall are you?" The man asked. 

"6'2''." Draco replied promptly.

The man's nametag said 'Luke.' Draco didn't have a problem with that name.

Luke asked him specifically what he was looking for and Draco told him he needed something casual, but that he didn't know what to look for. Luke grabbed several different styles of jeans and shirts and handed them to Draco, then told him where the fitting rooms were located.

About half an hour later Draco had decided what he wanted, based on what looked good on him, which was of course everything. He ended up narrowing his selections down to the ones he thought Hermione would stare at him over.

He grinned confidently as he walked over to the women's side of the store in search of her. 

"Granger." He called out. 

"Yeah." She responded in a lout voice from the women's fitting rooms.

Figures she'd be back there trying on clothes when she didn't even need them. Girls…

"Let's get a move on." He called, shoving down the strong curiosity to see what she was trying on.

About ten seconds later Hermione came out from behind the corner with a small heap of clothes over her arm.

"Let's go." She said, staring at him impatiently.

"I just said that…" He muttered irritably.

He followed her up to the register and tossed his selections (three pairs of jeans and five shirts in various styles) onto the counter. It was then that he realized he couldn't pay for muggle clothing in galleons.

As Hermione laid her own picks on top of Draco's he spoke.

"Wait a minute, forget it Granger." He said, shaking his head.

"What?" She said quizzically. 

Draco heard a beeping noise every time the clerk picked up an article of clothing and ran it until a red light. "There's no way I'm letting you pay for this."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and pulled a card out of her pocket and handed it to the clerk. Was that how muggles paid for things, with a card?

"Oh please, Malfoy. Get off your high horse. I don't mind paying." She said dismissingly.

"No way, Granger!" He said, scowling at her. More than anything Draco hated feeling like he owed someone something.

"If it bothers you that much you can pay me back later." She sounded annoyed, but firm, so Draco gave up and decided to grumble instead.

"It comes to 477.48." The cashier said, handing Hermione back her card.

"_What?" _Draco exclaimed incredulously. He had no problem with spending a lot of money on…anything. But even he knew that 447.48 was pretty steep.

"Pounds, Malfoy, not galleons." She muttered so that the cashier wouldn't hear her.

"How much is that in galleons?" He insisted.

"Its about 95." She answered.

"Oh." He said, relaxing a little. That was a little more understandable.

"Is it alright if he uses your fitting room to change?" Hermione asked the cashier.

"Of course, miss." The man replied pleasantly.

Draco seized this opportunity cleverly. "No, Granger. If I'm changer, you're changing. I don't want to walk around muggle London with you in those rags."

Hermione glared coldly at him. The truth was that Hermione looked fine the way she was, better that fine actually. Her clothes were simple and tasteful, and they fit her well. But Draco wanted very much to see the things she'd purchased on her.

"Malfoy, I wasn't planning on actually wearing these clothes." She said, shaking her head.

"Well then why did you buy them?" He replied dubiously.

"Well, I was going to eventu-…fine." She muttered. And with that she walked off to change and Draco did the same, chuckling to himself as he went.

Five minutes later he emerged from the fitting rooms to find Hermione already waiting for him. He caught sight of her and suppressed a grin. Hip clinging jeans, and a long, off the shoulder V-neck in a flattering shade of green- she looked fantastic.

He cleared his throat and said, "That's a bit better. At least now you don't look like a vagrant, or worse, a Weasley."

He expected her to take the bait, but she appeared to have not even heard him. Her face was flushed and her eyes were slightly glazed over as she looked at him. He grinned smugly. It would seem that he'd succeeded in picking out clothes that would push her buttons.

"Come on, Granger. As understandable as staring at me is, it's rather unbecoming." That did the trick. She rolled her eyes and turned away to march out of the store.

-

Hermione had honestly expected him to walk up to the resisted with something resembling a muumuu, like she'd seen a man trying to pose as a muggle wear at the Quidditch World Cup. It turned out he had at least some fashion sense, though how much remained to be seen. When she'd told him to go change it was more out of sheer curiosity than any true distaste at the clothing he was wearing. Honestly, he looked quite dashing in his dress clothes.

When he emerged from the fitting room, Hermione had to stop her jaw from literally hitting the floor. If she'd thought that putting him in muggle clothes would make him less attractive, she couldn't have been more delusional. He now looked like a Gap model instead of a GQ model. Sand blasted jeans, and a black polo shirt over a white T-shirt. The shirt was tight enough through the chest to show off his pecs and the jeans were just the right shape- fitting through the hips and thighs and looser from the knees down.

He said something to her but she wasn't listening. She was too preoccupied by the way his pale skin and hair were even more pronounced against the black of his shirt, which was short sleeved and very adept at showing off his perfectly sculpted biceps. Hermione was getting more and more annoyed with herself ever time she forgot herself and found him attractive. It was even worse when she was obvious about it. It just made it that much easier for him to pick apart her anger, not to mention how much it stroked his ego- as if it needed any more stroking.

She finally realized what he was saying to her and rolled her eyes at his arrogance. Really, he could go above and beyond the call of presumptuous. What was worse, he was right. She was staring, and it was unbecoming.

-

It was entirely too much fun to tease Hermione. She almost always rose to the occasion. Draco considered himself to be a fairly clever individual. One thing he'd always been able to say about Hermione was that she had a tongue as sharp as his. So it really did make his day when he could disarm her, make her so angry or irritated she couldn't come up with some sharp, witty reply to whatever he was handing her.

She must have known that it was all a game to him, but if she did she ignored the fact. Draco wondered if she'd ever realize he was doing things _just _get a rise out of her. He hoped she wouldn't, that might mean the end of his fun.

As the two of them left the muggle clothing shop Draco couldn't wipe the smile off his face. Was this what it was like to be happy? Even Draco knew that taking pleasure in Hermione's disconcertion was slightly twisted, but it was a start…. and he didn't really want to see the girl he loved unhappy, he just liked to see her face flush red.

"So, where to now?" He said pleasantly. He wondered if she was going to snap at him, but she didn't. She just fished around her person and pulled out the sheet of paper her father had given her.

"Er…" But before she could say anything, Draco cut her off.

"I'm hungry. I want lunch." He said simply. 

Hermione tapped her foot impatiently. "Then why did you ask me?" 

Draco waved his hand nonchalantly. "I just realized I'm hungry."

Hermione considered for a moment and then admitted, "Actually I am too. Do you like seafood?"

It was very unHermione-like to ask his opinion, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Love sea food." He answered, nodding.

"Okay, then we're going to Joe's." 

"Lead the way." Draco said, and Hermione looked at him suspiciously before telling him the address of her favorite seafood joint.

**000**

Okay, this is a short chapter. I'm very sorry for the wait. My keyboard broke a few days ago so I haven't been able to finish or post it until now, when I finally broke down. I've been looking for an ergonomic keyboard like the one that broke but I can't spend the money on one right now. So today I caved in and went to get a used one for 3 bucks to tide me over. So again, sorry about the wait on the chapter.

The next one should be up a lot more quickly. And thanks for all the reviews, especially to those of you who review every chapter. You rock!

**As always, I love feedback. Makes me feel appreciated. hint ;)**

Amanda


	15. The Raging Storm

Disclaimer: I wish I were JKR. It would make a nice birthday present. 

000

"Why aren't the muggles noticing when we apparate right in front of them?" asked Draco as he appeared on a busy street corner in front of 'Joe's.' They'd been apparating and disapparating all day and hadn't gotten so much as second glance.

"People only see what they want to see, Malfoy." Hermione said simply, giving him a quizzical look. "Surely you of all people know that."

The implications of her words hit him with a sting as they walked through a door into a small restaurant decorated festively in honor of fish. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" He asked with a scowl.

Hermione ignored him and walked to a booth in the back corner. A waiter gave them a look that told them he'd be with them in a moment. Hermione slid into the booth and Draco sat across from her feeling injured. Hermione tilted her head up to examine the decorations on the wall. A pleasant look of nostalgia lit her features and Draco found himself wondering what she was thinking. He'd lost count of how many times that had happened recently…

"What are you grinning about, Granger?" He asked nonchalantly.

Hermione turned her eyes to his for a moment before answering. "We came here for my tenth birthday party." She looked down at the table and grinned to herself again.

"And?" Draco said, arching an eyebrow.

"And what?" She said.

"Clearly there's more to it Granger, judging by that annoyingly smug look you're wearing."

"Why are you even asking, Malfoy? It's not as though you care."

"Jesus Granger! I'm just trying to have a conversation! Fuck…" She really was impossible. 

Hermione looked surprised by his outburst but didn't say anything about it. Instead she surveyed him for a moment before saying, "Okay, Malfoy."

He looked back at her with his jaw still set and his eyes narrowed. He had a feeling he was in for another row with her. He braced himself for the hit, but it didn't come.

She tilted her head up toward the wall, motioning toward an orange vest on the wall. Draco followed her eyes and then looked back at her questioningly.

"What the hell is that thing?" He asked irritably. Was this some sort of game to make him look stupid?  
"It's called a life-preserver."

"What?"

"Muggles wear them around their waist to keep them afloat." She said, clarifying.

"Oh." He said. "And?" He really hoped she was going somewhere with this.

"My dad pulled that one off the wall and strapped it on me. He made me wear it the entire time we were here." She chuckled at this and Draco felt the corners of his mouth twitch.

"Why?" He asked.

"He said it was to keep me from drowning."

"…Right. I can definitely see how you'd be in danger of drowning in this er, restaurant…" A teasing smile played around his lips as he looked around the very dry room.

Hermione cleared her throat and flushed pink. "I was ten, okay?" She snapped.

"I was ten once too, but I didn't wear a "life preserver" during meals. Or ever, for that matter…" He said, making fun of her. 

Hermione blushed ever brighter, but her eyes didn't falter. She looked at him with the same constant defiance. "It was just for fun, okay. To keep me comfortable."

"I'm not following you Granger-"

"I can't swim!" She spat, then immediately snapped her lips together, knowing she'd just signed her own death warrant. "I mean-"

Draco felt like Christmas had come early. This was too great…

He burst out laughing and Hermione glared angrily at him. She gritted her teeth and grumbled something he couldn't hear. Draco wasn't even bothering to mask his glee. He was laughing so hard now his sides were hurting. Truthfully, it wasn't that big a deal. Lots of people couldn't swim. But seeing Hermione so embarrassed over it was making it very amusing.

Draco knew that she could have avoided the whole thing if she had just shamelessly admitted that she'd never learned how to swim, but she didn't. She had to be so very _Granger_ about it and make it easy for him. It was too easy. She put her buttons out there and Draco felt it was his _duty_ to push them.

She looked livid now and Draco couldn't stop himself. "Wait! Wait a minute…" He gasped between hoots. "You're telling me that Miss Know-it-all Granger, Head Girl of Hogwarts, doesn't know how to do something?"

"Shut up, Malfoy." She snarled. "I never said I know everything."

"Oh come off it." He said. "You strut around like you know the answer to every question. You pretend like you are some Goddess and the rest of us are mere mortals, like you're better than everyone else." His tone accidentally became accusatory as he went on. "So you can hardly blame me for leaping for joy when you admit there is something you're not good at."

Hermione's face hardened even more and he knew he'd probably said too much. But it was how he really felt. It was true. She really did act like she was in a league of her own. Draco knew she really _was_ in a league of her own, but she didn't have to lord it over everyone else.

"That's bullshit, Draco."

Draco wasn't sure if he was more surprised that she'd sworn at him or that she'd used his first name. He raised his eyebrows at her and she glared at him hatefully.

"And it's definitely rich, coming from you." She snarled. "You think your blood puts you in a class above me. You've treated me and every other Muggle-born at Hogwarts like shit from the moment you walked through the doors six years ago. I never did anything to you. I never hurt you. I've never done anything to deserve the way you treat me, but you still act like I'm not fit to breathe the same air as you."

Draco could tell she was saying to him what she'd wanted to say for a long time and he found he wasn't able to say anything back. So she went on.

"Well I have news for you, you arrogant bastard. I'm breathing the same air that you are now and you aren't getting sick. You saw me bleed and you must have noticed that my blood is as red as yours. You have nothing I don't have, so why don't you keep your hypocritical accusations to yourself and leave me the hell alone?" And then she leaned back in her chair and folded her arms, giving him a look of pure loathing. 

Draco felt his mouth fall open. He felt like he'd been slapped across the face. His brain wasn't working the way he needed it to. He couldn't think of anything to say because her words were still washing over him like acid. The fire in her eyes was boring a deep hole in his and he found he couldn't take it. Then he felt the anger come. It was much easier than giving a second thought to the words he knew were true.

He remembered the cold hatred in her voice the last time he'd tried to touch her and an emotion the strength of which he'd never felt welled up inside of him. He didn't even bother to restrain himself.

"That's enough." He whispered dangerously. "You are nothing but a self righteous little bitch. How dare you accuse me when you are no better than I am."

Hermione's eyes flashed even darker. He knew he'd crossed the line again but he didn't care. "Don't you dare call me that." She snarled.

"Why not? That's exactly what you are. A hypocritical bitch with a superiority complex even I can't rival. You want me to treat you like my equal yet you say I'm not fit to touch you." The anger and hurt he'd felt when she'd made it clear she didn't ever want him touching her went into his vicious words and he could see the same pain and anger in her eyes as he attacked her. Good. That was exactly what he wanted. He wanted her to hurt. He wanted her to suffer. He wanted her to feel the anguish he felt every time he looked at her and she looked away. He was going through hell because of her and he wanted to give her a taste of that, even if it meant she hated him even more.

"You have no idea why I don't want you touching me." She whispered, her voice shaking.

"Then tell me. Tell me what I could possibly have done to you to deserve that." He heard his own voice shaking too, but again, he didn't care. He wanted an answer. But she didn't give it. She didn't say anything. She just stared at him like she wanted to physically beat him to death.

"I don't owe you anything." She finally said, standing up suddenly. Apparently she wasn't hungry anymore and he found he wasn't either. She stormed quickly to the front door and he followed her, feeling on fire. Almost every head in the restaurant followed them but Draco didn't give a damn. She flew out the door and he was right behind her. Once on the sidewalk she took off down the street as fast as she could and Draco chased after her.

"Don't you run way from this Granger!" He yelled. He was gaining on her, as his legs were longer than hers. "Stop!"

She knew he was catching her so she cut to the right and ran down an alley. But he was too fast for her. He grabbed her shoulder roughly and pulled her to face him. She tried to struggle but he held her shoulders firmly. He knew he was much stronger than she was and she consequently had no chance of escaping him. Staring fiercely into her eyes he wasn't sure if he wanted to hit her as hard as he could or pull her to him and never let her go. Maybe it was both. Instead he did what he knew he shouldn't. He moved his hands to her neck and lower back her pulled her lips to his.

He felt so much in that moment. He felt as though he would burst at the seams. He could have shattered into a thousand pieces. A body shouldn't be capable of holding so much inside it. But he kissed her. He kissed her as hard as he could and he felt something inside him break like a dam. All the fire flooded out of him and into her with a force that left both of them wrecked.

He tightened his arms around her as his tongue swept savagely around her mouth. He bit her bottom lip a little too hard but he couldn't help it, and she didn't stop him. He opened his mouth as wide as he could and breathed into her, willing her to do the same. And she did. She put both her hands in his hair and whimpered helplessly as she pulled him even closer. 

A storm was raging and both Draco and Hermione were powerless to stop it.

Hermione pushed her body against him as hard as she could and he did the same, wanting to be as close to her as possible. But it wasn't enough. No matter how close they were, it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. He wanted their bodies to literally meld to one another and it wasn't physically possible. So he kissed her wildly and held her to him. There was no grace or gentleness about it. Both of them wanted to dowse the inferno they felt, and feed it at the same time.

The kiss was everything. It was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. He couldn't breath. He couldn't think. He was seeing stars and he knew that nothing would ever be then same again.

How long it went on that way, he didn't know. Time ceased to exist as they held each other. Their tongues battled each other relentlessly and their hands held every part of the other's body. Draco's eyes were shut so tightly he would probably never be able to see again. He was suffocating but it didn't matter. He didn't need to breathe. He just needed to feel her body against his. He could hear her moaning and whimpering into his mouth and it only fed the fire inside him. The hard-on he'd been battling all day took over him and pressed hard into her stomach and he could think of nothing but how much he needed her, in every way.

And then she spoke.

"Stop." She whimpered.

Draco pulled away slightly and opened his eyes in surprise. "What?" He asked breathlessly. She wanted to stop? In God's name why…

He saw tears streaming down her face and he wanted to kiss them away. He didn't understand. He pulled her face to his again but she stopped him.

"No. Don't." She sobbed.

"Hermione…" He said, shaking his head in confusion. _Why_?

"Don't call me that!" 

Draco was utterly speechless.

Hermione pulled herself out of his arms and he was too stunned to keep his hold on her. 

"You can't do this to me!" She choked.

"Doing what to you?" He said in a strained voice. He hadn't done anything to her that she hadn't reciprocated. He was so confused. He felt like the world was upside down.

"Pretending!" She cried. "You have to stop!"

"I'm not…I'm- what are you talking about?" He stuttered. This wasn't making any sense.

He reached for her again and she backed up. "No!" She said. "You have to stop. I can't take this anymore."

Hermione's lip was trembling and Draco felt his chest seize up. He was totally lost and it hurt like hell.

"Please Hermione." He said desperately.

She shook her head with anguish in her eyes, and then she was gone. He heard a crack in the air that mirrored exactly the break in his heart. The place she'd been was empty and he felt the same void within himself with her gone. 

-

Hermione collapsed on her bed, sobbing uncontrollably. She buried her face in her pillow and her cries were muffled, but the pain wasn't. She'd truly wanted him dead until the moment he'd kissed her, and then she felt herself break. She'd felt a passion she didn't know she could feel. She wanted him. She wanted all of him. She'd thought he felt the same. She could feel it in him as his body was pressed against her.

She'd know it for sure then as he'd kissed her. She loved him. She loved him so much. And she knew she'd always loved him. As absent as her mind had been in that moment of passion, she knew clearly that the kind of feeling she was having couldn't have developed in a few short weeks. She wondered how long she'd loved him. And she wondered how it had happened. He'd truly never shown anything but hate and detest toward her. How could she have fallen in love with someone who abhorred her so?

It didn't make any sense. Yet it was true. It was truer than anything had ever been.

She'd been able to abandon all reasonable thought in the midst of his kiss until she felt his erection against her stomach. It had been like a slap in the face. It brought her back to reality brutally. It was a stark reminder of what he _didn't_ feel for her. She loved him and he only wanted her body. 

She's seen him looking at her. She'd noticed the hungry look in his eyes as he watched her. Far from flattering her, it stung like the bullet had stung when it was embedded in her flesh. That was what it was like- a bullet embedded in her heart. It reminded her that he would never see her as anything but a mudblood good for nothing but shagging and dropping. 

He'd only been using her to ease whatever pain he was feeling from his past. She wasn't stupid. She knew that he'd lived through a lot. It was written all over him that he was full of demons and scars. But she wasn't going to be his cure. She wasn't going to be the thing he used to lighten his load then discarded. It hurt too much.

And then Hermione did something she hadn't done since she was a little girl. She cried herself to sleep.

-

"Minerva, I understand your concern. But I don't think you're listening to me." Said Albus Dumbledore calmly. "You and I both know that Hermione and Draco are quite capable of looking after themselves, but surely you must know that there's more to this than that."

Minerva McGonagall pursed her lips and tapped her foot. "Albus. Hermione was shot, and we don't know who did it. We don't even have ideas."

"There I think you'll find you're wrong." The Headmaster replied, giving McGonagall a hard look. "Can you think of no one?"

McGonagall sat still for a moment trying to rack her brain of all the clues they had. And still, no one came to mind. "I can't, Albus. It's all so confusing." She shook her head as if to clear it, then looked up pointedly at Dumbledore. "But clearly you are thinking something so why don't you just say it and save us both the time?"

"I'd rather not, yet." He replied simply. "We have another matter at hand."

McGonagall nodded slowly as her face became somber. "How are we going to tell him?"

"I'm afraid that decision has been taken out of her hands. The Ministry has already sent him an owl, he'll have it by tonight." Dumbledore said gravely.

McGonagall nodded again, feeling a lump rise in her throat. The poor boy…

"I'm just thankful that he's with Miss Granger." The old man said, sighing.

At this McGonagall's head snapped up and her lips tightened again. "We're back to that again. Really Albus, I don't see how that will help."

"I'm not expecting you to, Minerva." Dumbledore said calmly. "I'm just asking you to trust me. There is a reason I sent Hermione and Draco to this task together."

"Which is?" She said, raising her eyebrows.

"Simply that I believe they are the only ones who can save each other." And then he smiled.

McGonagall didn't ask any more questions, she just reflected. Was it possible he was right? Was it possible that Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger were what the other needed? It seemed more than a little unlikely, but then, Minerva McGonagall had seen stranger things happen.

000

A/N- Well, I really hope you liked this chapter. I really loved writing it. I love D/Hr so very, very much and I hope it shows.

guilt trip Today is my birthday and I would be so appreciative if you would all review me and tell me what you think. It just makes my dad when I see my email box filled with reviews. /guilt trip

Sorry about the wait again, although this one was not as long as the last. The next one should be much faster since I have the whole chapter planned out and its been one of the main scenes in my head since I first thought up this story.

Have a lovely evening, and Happy Sunday! 

Amanda

8-6-06


	16. Never A Wasted Day

_Disclaimer: I'm running out of clever ways to say that I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER._

A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews and birthday wishes. To those of you who asked, I turned 20.

**I blame any delay on this chapter and future chapters on the wonderful fic entitled 'Pansy's Volcano,' which I am now reading yet again. I've mentioned it before and it's seriously the best fic ever. Its by a very talented writer named bluemidget, and it really goes above and beyond the call of amazing. It could convert anyone to Leather Librarianism. (as we like to call it on the Harry Potter board at FanForum) If you haven't read it, get on that immediately. You won't be sorry. And although I have no doubt that many of you will lose interest in my story, as it truly pales in comparison to the masterpiece that is PV, it would simply be wrong and unfair of me not to point you all in the right direction.**

The story isn't on FF, but you can find it on adultfanfiction or on Coloured Grey, I recommend the latter. It's a great site.

Once you've read it you'll hardly be able to blame me for making you wait on chapters. (That's secretly why I'm suggesting it...NOT) ;)

**And without further ado, here's chapter 16. Enjoy!**

**Consider this part one of two chapters.**

**000**

Draco stood breathless and painfully confused in that muggle alley for a long while. He felt like he couldn't tell up from down. His world had been turned inside out and nothing made sense. He couldn't for the life of him comprehend what in Merlin's name he'd done to make Hermione sob like he'd stabbed her in the heart.

That was how he felt. It was like she'd put a knife in his chest, wriggled it around a bit, pulled it out, and then stabbed him again for spite. It was absolute torture, being so close to her then having her pull away like he had some highly contagious disease. What had she meant when she'd said he was 'pretending?' She'd said it twice now and he still had no idea what the hell she was talking about. Did she think…? - He couldn't even begin to come up with a question. 

He'd never felt so alone in his life.

Empty and raw, he apparated to the Granger residence. He had no desire to see or talk to Hermione. He wasn't sure he ever wanted to see her again. He didn't even know where she was. He walked up the stairs and past her bedroom door. He didn't even glance at her door as he made his way quickly to the guest bedroom. As far as he was concerned, she could cease to exist. Maybe then he could breathe again. As it was, just knowing she was in the world tormented him.

How was it possible that he could feel so much? And for Hermione Granger? He'd honestly thought he hated her until a few short days ago. How could a person go from despising someone so much it hurt so loving someone so much it hurt almost overnight? It struck him then that it wasn't possible. That logically meant that either he didn't love her now, or he'd never really hated her.

As he closed the guest room door behind him he pondered this. He thought it again. _Either I don't love her or I never hated her._

But it wasn't even a question. As he stood there her face came to his mind and he knew he loved her. His heart wrenched at the thought of her smiling. Hs stomach flipped at the sound of her laugh in his mind. He felt a pang of dread course through his veins as he remembered her limp body bleeding to death in his arms. He loved her. It was inescapable.

That therefore meant that he'd never hated her. At least not to the degree he'd thought. He'd disliked her, even strongly disliked her, but that was true even now. Every haughty flip of her hair was met with mixed feelings of fondness and dislike inside Draco. Everything he found annoying about her was oddly endearing.

_Maybe that's how it is when you love someone…_

Draco thought of the first time he'd seen Hermione. It had been on the train in their first year at Hogwarts. He remembered clearly seeing a head of bushy hair in an ugly shade of mousy brown. And then the eleven-year-old Hermione Granger had turned around and opened her mouth to boss some unsuspecting classmate around. She had big eyes and large teeth and Draco had known instantly that he wouldn't like her. 

And then she'd been sorted into Gryffindor and that had sealed the deal. He knew it was his prerogative, if not his duty to dislike anyone in Gryffindor on principle. But then the year went on and Hermione Granger had proved to be just as annoying as her first impression had suggested. It seemed to be her mission in life to prove that she knew _everything._ Draco remembered wondering if she knew that she was only alienating people by being a know-it-all.

But then she'd done something that was unforgivable. She became friends with Harry Potter. Better than friends. Draco didn't know how it had happened, but suddenly Hermione, Harry, and Ron Weasley had become utterly inseparable. At the time he had passed off his consternation at this fact by telling himself that his annoyance only stemmed from knowing that Potter and Weasley would now get a free ride through school, depending on Hermione for academic help. That had been unbearable, knowing that Potter's load would be lighter.

But now he wondered if he'd been annoyed for other reasons.

No, it was much to soon then, Draco reasoned to himself as he sat on the neatly made bed of the seventeen-year-old Hermione's guest room. It must have happened after that. When had it happened?

Draco thought of the next year, and the year after. He'd watched from afar as Hermione's bond with Weasley and Potter had strengthened. It had of course bothered him, but that was only because everything about the Trio bothered him, or so he'd thought.

Still, he didn't know when it had happened. It didn't really matter thought. At some point along the way, she must have laughed, or smiled, or done something that made Draco see her. Or maybe she hadn't. It truly didn't matter. He loved her now and there was no way around it. What purpose did digging up the past serve? None. It only reminded him of how trapped he was now.

His life was out of his control now and he didn't know if things could get any worse. But then they did. Draco opened his eyes to a tapping on his window. He looked up in surprise and saw a plain grey own waiting outside, trying to get his attention. This was odd, to say the least. Curiosity got the better of Draco as he crossed to the window the let the owl in. Who would be contacting him? Who even knew he was here? 

The moment the window was open the grey owl fluttered in and landed lightly on Draco's dresser. Draco noticed an envelope tied its leg and reached out to take it. As soon as he'd untied it the owl fluttered out the window and was gone. Draco watched it for a moment and then looked back at the letter. An inexplicable sense of dread washed over him as he looked at it.

It was addressed simply.

**_Mr. Draco Malfoy_**  
**_Guest in the Granger Household_**

_**Hertfordshire**_

Draco turned the envelope over to find the simple seal of the Ministry of Magic.

_What the hell?_

The unsettled feeling in the pit of Draco's stomach grew as he stared at the envelope. When he couldn't stand it any longer, he gingerly broke the seal and pulled out the short letter inside. He unfolded it and read it quickly.

The contents washed over him like a tidal wave made of cold acid. The most powerful emotion of pain and anger he'd ever experienced filled him as he let the letter fall to the floor. He wanted to die. He wanted to escape. But there was nowhere to go. So he did the only thing he could. He pulled out his wand and cast a silencing spell on the room. 

And then he screamed. He shouted so loud and long and hard that his voice broke itself. So then he cried. He sobbed and broke ever object in the room. He put his fist through a wall and broke several fingers in the process. But he didn't feel the pain. It was nothing compared to the anguish inside him that was an amalgam of his love for Hermione and the news contained in the letter on the floor.

And when he couldn't cry anymore, and he hadn't the strength to throw, smash, or punch anything, he fell. He hit the ground so hard he blacked out and didn't move until hours later when he woke up and found himself bloody and sprawled out on the floor. His head was pounding as he pulled himself up onto the bed, and then he lost consciousness again.

When he woke up for the second time God knows how much later, every muscle and bone in his body ached. The fingers on his right hand were so swollen he couldn't move them and several tiny pieces of the ceramic lamp he'd broken were embedded lightly in the skin on his arm. He could feel his neck bleeding but he didn't know how that had happened. 

The first thing he did once he'd managed to sit up was search for his wand. He spotted it on the floor under the window and got up gingerly, trying not to put more strain on his aching parts than was necessary, and limped across the room to pick it up. His whole body was spent. Not just his muscles but his insides too. He had nothing left, he was completely hollow. Even breathing was an effort.

Still, he had enough sense to know that if the Grangers found their guest room in such a state, he would probably have a lot of explaining to do, and that was the last thing he wanted. No, he wouldn't say anything about it. He would put the room right and let that be it. No one ever had to know. Speaking it out loud would make it real, it he wasn't going to allow it to be real. He refused point-blank to even look at the letter on the floor. He bent painfully to pick up his wand and found that he literally couldn't grasp it with his broken fingers.

His left hand worked fine however, though he wasn't very coordinated with it - At least not as much as he was with his right. He grasped the wand awkwardly and went back to the bed. Sitting down carefully, he surveyed the damage, which was considerable. 

The room was a wreck. The shards of glass from the broken mirror were scattered dangerously on the floor. There were dents in the walls caused by the impact of other objects. Most of those objects were broken and strewn about the room. He had completely overturned the table by the window and one of the legs was broken off.

Draco fully appreciated how screwed he would have been if he'd had no wand to repair the damage for him. But he did have a wand, as nearly impossible as it was to use it. He found that in order to hold it he had to use both hands. He did the best he could to close his injured fingers over the handle, but when he wasn't able, he used his left hand to press it against his palm. In that fashion he slowly repaired the room. When he cast the spell for the mirror to repair itself he felt a few pieces of glass remove themselves from his body and he cried out in pain.

When the room looked the way it should he leaned back lightly against the headrest and closed his eyes. His breathing was shallow. Everything hurt. The room may have been repaired but the boy who had caused the damage was far from whole.

-

Hermione woke up in her bed with a pounding headache. Her head always hurt after she cried. She sighed deeply and stared blankly at her wall. She vaguely remembered hearing Draco walk past her door hours before but she'd been so out of it at the time that she'd just closed her eyes and lost consciousness again. She was so tired. The day's events had worn her out completely and it was only 5 PM. A little after, actually.

5 PM…that meant her parents would be home any min-

Right on cue a quiet knock came on her door and Hermione sat up, straightening her clothes and wiping off the mascara she knew was smeared under her eyes. 

"Just a minute." She called. Hermione's parents were nothing if not punctual. She knew they'd want to know exactly what Hermione and Draco had gotten done today. Hermione felt a pang in her stomach as she realized that they'd succeeded in nothing but charging a lot of money on her father's credit card and causing a scene in Hermione's favorite restaurant. What was she going to tell her parents? She couldn't very well tell them that they'd called it a day after nearly destroying themselves in an alley.

When Hermione was sure she looked presentable she walked to the door and opened it, a smile masking her unhappiness.

"Hi mum." She said as pleasantly as she could.

"Hello love." Her mother said, kissing her on the cheek. "Are you alright?" There was concern in Jane's voice.

"Yes, I'm just tired. I took a nap and I just woke up." Hermione answered, stretching her arms for effect.

"Oh. Well your father and I would like to know about your day." Her mother said with a smile. "Would you come down to the kitchen and tell us about it?"

"Sure." Hermione said, knowing she couldn't refuse. "I'll be down in a bit."

"Alright." Jane said. "Draco too. Is he in his room?"

Hermione nodded. "I think he's asleep." Hermione had no idea if this was true but it was the only thing she could think to say.

"Okay. Well why don't you wake him and the two of you can come down together. We'll be in the kitchen."

Hermione nodded again and her mother walked away, leaving her to contemplate just how much she didn't want to walk down the hall to Draco's room.

But there was no way around it. She gathered herself and walked to his door.

She wasn't sure what name she should call him by so she didn't use his name. "My parents want to talk to us in the kitchen." She said in a voice loud enough for him to hear it through the door, but no louder. And then she walked away as quickly as she could.  
Shortly after, she joined her parents in the kitchen and informed them that "He" was on his way down.

-

Draco was staring blankly at the ceiling when he heard her voice. The Grangers wanted to talk to them; no doubt to find out what they'd accomplished that day. Draco wished he could ignore it all, but he knew he couldn't. So he scooted himself out of bed and stood as straight as he could considering the injuries to his body. He caught his reflection in the mirror and knew he couldn't walk down to the kitchen looking like this. But he didn't have the time or ability to fix or hide his wounds. So he grabbed a long black cloak from a drawer and draped it over himself.

It looked awkward, but at least it hid his body. Every step was painful but over the years he'd become very good at hiding pain. So when he walked into the kitchen minutes later, the only thing blatantly _off_ about him was how slowly he was moving. He knew they assumed he'd been sleeping, so this was a usable excuse.

He didn't look any of them in the eye, especially not Hermione as he entered the room and leaned again the wall – sitting down would be more than his body could manage and still keep up pretences.

But the Grangers didn't question him. If they thought his appearance or behavior strange, they didn't show it.

"So," John said, pouring himself a glass of wine – Draco wouldn't have minded having a little, or the entire bottle, himself – "How did it go today?" Draco had no intention of saying a single word unless he was asked a direct question, so he continued to stare at the floor and hoped Hermione would say something. She did.

"We didn't get a whole lot done today," she said uncomfortably. "We got him some new clothes and then we…just…we were really tired so we came home to rest."

It was a lame excuse but Draco couldn't have come up with a better one. He could feel the elder Grangers' eyes questioning him but he didn't acknowledge them.

"I see…" said John uncertainly. "So you didn't go to any of the gun experts?"

"Not yet." Hermione answered. Draco noted that she sounded very collected. She was either a very good liar or she'd gotten over the earlier events remarkably quickly… "We will," she said. "Tomorrow."

Her parents didn't say anything. They seemed to be hoping one of the teenagers would explain what the hell was going on. When neither of them spoke and the silence persisted, John seemed to think another glass of wine was in order. Draco couldn't blame him.

"Well," John finally said, "No such thing as a wasted day." The man obviously knew there was something going on but he knew better than to push the issue.

Just then the doorbell rang and Hermione jumped out of her seat like she'd been sitting on springs. "I'll get it," she said quickly, leaving the room in a hurry.

Once she was gone Draco finally looked up. He met John's eyes and found them full of questions. But Draco couldn't answer them so he looked away again.

"What's going on here, Draco?" Jane said in a mixture of concern and sternness. 

Draco knew he couldn't dodge the question. "We…- even to himself his voice sounded damaged – we…had a row."

His throat felt like sandpaper as he spoke. He left his answer at that. The Grangers waited from him to elaborate and when he didn't they spoke again.

"And, are you alright?" John asked. Draco knew that Hermione's father was honestly worried that they had physically beaten each other. The man obviously knew it wasn't outside the realm of possibilities.

Draco nodded. "She's fine."

"I wasn't asking about her," John said. "You look like you're about to collapse. Did she…attack you?"

Draco actually snorted at this, which then caused him to start coughing in pain. He shook his head between coughs. 

"Draco!" exclaimed Jane. "You're hurt." The overly kind woman crossed to Draco and reached out to help him but he stiffened and she stopped.

"I'm fine," he said. And he left it at that. He hadn't asked for help. He didn't need help. He didn't want help. But he knew he'd been short with her and he didn't want to give her more cause to doubt him. "Thank you anyway, Mrs. Granger," he said, giving her a small smile.

And before she could push it further, Hermione re-entered the room looking a little flustered, another two people in tow.

"Mary, Rob!" Jane said with a happy smile to the boy and girl behind Hermione. "You're early!"

**000**

**A/N: Well. I had intended this chapter to include the next one, but it would just be too damn long. So know that the next chapter is the one I've had in my head from the beginning, and it shall feature one of my favorite things in the whole world. Drunk Draco. grins maniacally**

So in the meanwhile, please review like the lovely readers I know you all are! 

**PS – My boss gave me five days of vacation for my birthday and then made up for it by smacking me with like, two weeks straight of double shifts.  So I will try oh so hard to finish at least the next two chapters before I have to hit it again on Thursday.**

Amanda


	17. This Is How a Heart Breaks

Disclaimer: I blah DON'T blah OWN blah blah HARRY bleh POTTER. Meh.

Consider yourself disclaimed.

Okay, this is part two of, whatever it is…

Chapter 17

000

Hermione was literally "saved by the bell"- the doorbell, that is. She couldn't remember ever having felt so uncomfortable in her life, sitting there in the kitchen with her parents and Draco. So when the doorbell rang, she flew out of her seat as fast as she could. She didn't care who was at the door. She thought vaguely to herself as she entered the hall that opening the door to Voldemort himself, ready to Avada her would be much preferable to spending one more second in that kitchen.

But it wasn't Voldemort. It was her best friend – muggle friend – whom she'd known since she was a toddler, and the girl's slightly older brother, whom she'd had a bit of a crush on since not long after. 

"Mary!" Hermione said, taken completely by surprise. Hermione actually felt herself smile. It had only been a few weeks since she'd last seen her two friends, but it was nice to see them all the same. "What are you guys doing here?" she said as Mary hugged her excitedly. "How did you know I was home?"

"Your mum called us." Mary replied. "She seemed to think you needed a bit of cheering up."

"She…what – why?" Hermione stuttered. Just how much had her mother told them? Hermione didn't think it was safe to tell anyone what had happened to her and she wouldn't have wanted to even if she could.

Mary shrugged. If she knew something she wasn't going to let on…

Hermione's brow furrowed worriedly for a moment before the tall boy next to Mary cleared his throat. Hermione decided to let go of her worries for the time being. It really was nice to see her friends, for whatever reason they were here.

"Hey, Rob." Hermione said simply, giving him a smile and leaning comfortably into his arms.

"Hey kid." The boy said gently, before pushing her back to inspect her. "Long time, no see," he said, giving her a sarcastic wink.

Hermione slapped him playfully on the arm. "Yes, it's been _ages…_" she chuckled, playing along.

Just then, Hermione felt at ease for the first time in days…She'd spent most of her time with these two people as a child and the better part of every summer with them since she'd gone to Hogwarts. They knew each other very well.

They of course didn't know of Hermione's magical ability, but it had never been something that Hermione felt as a barrier. When her friends asked her about school she answered vaguely and left it at that. It had never been a big deal. 

As much as Hermione truly loved to outshine those around her, she'd never felt the need to with Mary and Rob. Every year at Hogwarts so far had ended with some sort of catastrophe, and it was nice to be able to come home and be a normal teenager with no evil wizard out to get her and no friends to protect and rescue – not that she resented Ron or Harry for that. They were her family, and families protect each other.

So she smiled simply and genuinely at her muggle pals. They looked very alike, Mary and Rob – this made sense, as they were siblings. Both were tall with short dark hair, deep blue eyes, and evenly toned olive skin. They shared the same heart shaped face and barely clefted chin.

Rob had always been a girlish crush of Hermione's – at first because he was the only boy she knew, and then because he was a good friend and a very good-looking one to boot. He had the sort of boyish good looks that most girls are instinctively drawn to. He had a rich laugh and dimples when he smiled. It was easy and natural to fancy him, especially since she only saw him during the summer.

It didn't hurt that he was very different from the boys Hermione spent her time with. Ron had red hair, freckles, and a quirky sense of humor. Harry's features were dark and deep, and Draco…well Hermione could spend hours thinking about Draco's features if she let herself…Draco seemed to be made of light. Pale hair, pale skin…even his eyes were made of glowing silver. The delicate yet defined and oxymoronically harsh features of his body only added to the effect of 'fallen angel.'

But back to the topic at hand! Hermione really hated the way her mind had been wandering to Draco of late, as though he had some magnetic pull over every part of her.

"Well, we have a bit of a surprise for you, love," said Mary with a mischievous grin.

"Oh no…" said Hermione, genuinely afraid. "Dare I ask?"

"Dare or not," said Rob. "We're going to tell you anyway."

Hermione bit her lip. "Okay…"

"You're birthday's coming up, is it not?" Mary was grinning again…oh no.

"Yes?" Hermione responded tentatively.

"Well, we haven't had a party for you since you turned eleven."

Hermione knew exactly where this was going…

"So you can deny us no longer," said Rob firmly.

Hermione rolled her eyes, but she honestly knew it was pointless to fight them – the battle was lost and she hadn't even fought it yet. She sighed resignedly and her friends knew her well enough to know she'd given in. Rob and Mary grinned again and Hermione found herself smiling with them, though she still felt uneasy.

"What did you have in mind?" she asked timidly.

"Come to our house and find out," Rob said with a roguish smirk. 

"Uh, when?" Hermione asked, wondering if she'd have time to think up an excuse as to why she couldn't go.

"Now, silly!" exclaimed Mary.

"_What?"_ Hermione yelped. "I can't, I have to…my parents-"

"Your parents are the ones who called us, remember?" Mary was chuckling now. "Speaking of – where are they now, I want to see them!"

"Kitchen…" Hermione mumbled, turning to head back to her doom, knowing her friends would follow her.

When she re-entered the kitchen she found her mother reaching out to touch Draco and forcefully shoved a jagged twinge back down where it came from.

"Janie G.!" cried Mary, running to Mrs. Granger's arms. 

Hermione rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that played at the corners of her mouth. Mary and her mother were kindred spirits. They both had the same naïve lust for life, whereas Hermione, Rob, and John Granger leaned more to the reserved, determined side. It was always fun to watch Mary and Jane laugh together, though.

Rob gave Jane a one-armed hug then bumped shoulders with John like they always did. 

"Yeah, we are early," said Rob. "But we have everything ready, so we thought we'd get a jump on it." Rob gave Hermione a suggestive wink that made everyone except Draco grin and roll their eyes. Hermione didn't look at Draco, but if she had she would have feared for Rob's life.

And moments later when Rob slung his arm around Hermione, if Hermione had been listening she would have heard Draco mutter something very inappropriate.

"So, what do you say, Grangers? Can we whisk your daughter away?" Again, Hermione rolled her eyes. Jane chuckled and said, "Of course you can. Just promise me you'll make her have fun."

"Done," said Rob, as he turned and pecked Hermione on the cheek. Hermione elbowed him in the ribs in mock annoyance, but not hard enough to do damage. 

Rob huffed, feigning indignation. "Come on, you…" he said, grabbing her hand and dragging her toward the door. 

Around this time, Hermione realized that Jane hadn't said anything in a while. She turned to look at her friend and found her staring at Draco with interest. "You must be Draco," she said. Jane must have told her friends about him…

Whatever world Draco had been in, being directly addressed instantly snapped him out of it. He titled his head up in acknowledgement, a sour look on his face. 

Hermione felt a strong sense of foreboding…this could get ugly. Draco wasn't exactly the "friendly" type. Her parents were one thing but Hermione doubted very much that Draco's newly found civility would carry over to her friends.

"Are you coming along, Draco?" asked Mary, her eyebrows raised. "You're not going to make us throw a party for Nia on our own, are you?"

Hermione didn't know which emotion was stronger – the mortification she felt at having Draco hear her nickname of the terror she felt as she wondered which of the many colorful phrases in Draco's repertoire he would choose as his response. But what he said was much worse that anything she could have pictured…

"I wouldn't dream of it." There was a darkness in his voice that made Hermione go cold. She looked directly into his eyes for the first time since the alley and even though he wasn't looking into hers, she saw the same darkness she'd heard, and it brought another sharp twinge to her that she wanted to push away.

But she couldn't push it way, so she turned away to leave instead.

"Okay, let's party!" said Mary, grabbing Hermione's other hand and helping Rob haul her toward the door.

-

Draco watched with detached interest as Hermione came through the door followed by two unknowns. The first pang of annoyance came when "Rob" greeted Hermione's father like a brother. Who the hell was this guy? 

The second pang – a much stronger one- came when the asshole winked at Hermione like he was thinking something he definitely was not allowed to think.

He listened to the conversation for a moment with his eyes narrowed. He didn't like this at all. Who the fuck were these people that they could just walk in like it was their own home. The Grangers were obviously perfectly comfortable with this attitude and that only added to Draco's displeasure.

And then the third pang came. Actually 'pang' didn't quite cover it. The fucker put his arm around Hermione, _his_ Hermione.

_Get your filthy hands off her. _He wasn't aware that he said this out loud.

Pure rage boiled up inside him as he watched Rob's arm tighten around Hermione. And then rage turned to black fury when the guy put his lips on _his_ girl.

It was everything he could do not barrel across the room and beat the shit out of the bastard with his bare hands. But then Hermione pushed the bastard away and Draco breathed.

Another few more deep breaths passed through him and he barely heard the conversation. He had gathered so far that these people were going to take Hermione away. The details of why and where were insignificant.

So when the girl called Mary spoke to him it took him a moment to process what she was saying.

"Are you coming along, Draco? You're not going to make us throw a party for Nia on our own, are you?" the girl said.

_No chance in fucking hell._

The next moment, Hermione was being dragged out the door and Draco was right behind them. He exited the room silently without a backward glance, not even paying attention to how much it hurt to walk.

All four teenagers missed the apprehensive look on John and Jane's faces.

-

Draco didn't trust himself to get into a car with the other three and keep a hold on himself, but he didn't have to. As it turned out, Rob and Mary were next-door neighbors to the Grangers. Draco followed behind them, never taking his eyes off the joint hands of Hermione and Rob, until he found himself in the comfortably furnished basement of Rob and Mary whatever-the-fuck their surname was.

Much like Hermione's family room, it had a billiards table, a very large TV, and several large paintings. Unlike the Grangers' family room, however, this room was filled with people. And very unlike the Grangers' family room, there was a table set up against the far wall covered with snack foods and beverages – most of them mercifully alcoholic.

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all…

Or maybe it would…several people rushed Hermione and wished her an early happy-birthday. And then the music started. It was loud and wonderfully rampant. Draco made his way over to the table with the drinks on it, where he intended to stay for the remainder of the evening.

But he didn't drink, not yet. He just watched. More people showed up and before long the room was almost packed. And then Mary drifted his way with Hermione and Rob in tow. Draco was actually glad that a slow and relatively quiet song was playing at this moment. 

"We need drinks," Mary said to Hermione. "And you need to properly introduce us to your friend."

Hermione was dead silent as she stared at the floor. Draco felt that stabbing sensation again…

"Fine," Mary said after a long and uncomfortable silence in which neither Draco or Hermione made an attempt to utter a word. "We'll introduce ourselves." Mary stepped in front of Draco and grabbed Rob's arm to make him do the same. "I'm Mary Walker, and this is my brother, Rob." 

Mary gave him a smile and Rob gave him a distracted grin. Clearly his attention was on the party, and Draco hated him for it. There was no reason for it but that didn't stop Draco from hating it. Actually, Draco didn't think there was anything about Rob that he wouldn't hate. Draco's face remained coldly impassive through the whole greeting affair.

"This is the part where you say, 'Hi Mary and Rob. It's nice to meet you. "I'm Draco –" Draco was being patronized but it didn't bother him nearly so much as the location of Rob's hand on Hermione's hip. But he'd play along, that's what Malfoys did - they put on a show.

"Draco…" Mary wanted Draco to divulge his surname.

"Malfoy," he said in a misleadingly calm voice.

"There now," piped Mary. "That wasn't so hard."

Draco had to bite back a nasty retort.

Mary was about to say something else but just then a very bouncy song came on and distracted her, Rob too. He grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her out into the middle of the floor where many people had been dancing the whole evening. Mary followed them and got right up against some other guy…clearly she thought continuing to attempt conversation with Draco was a waste of her breath, and she was right.

Draco watched in horror as Rob pulled Hermione right up against the front of his body and started to move with her. Draco made a move to go put a violent stop to this but ceased almost immediately when he saw the look on Hermione's face.

She was smiling. Not only was she smiling, but she was looking right into Rob's eyes and pushing her body up against his. She was enjoying this. She put her arms lightly in the air and began to move her body in ways that would normally have given Draco a powerful hard-on, but right now were making him physically sick. He gave one last look at the flirty look on Hermione's beautiful face and then couldn't watch anymore.

He wanted to numb himself. He wanted to drink until he couldn't feel his limbs. He turned his back to the dance floor and reached for the nearest bottle of whatever and hoped to God it would get him as drunk as possible as fast as possible. 

It worked. The more he drank, the more disjointed, angry, and wild his thoughts became, until soon he was completely gone.

He turned once again to watch Hermione still dancing with Rob and thought bitterly that of course she would want him, she even looked like him. In reality, he had brown hair like she had brown hair and that was where the similarities ended, but Draco was too far gone to think reasonably.

The music got louder and louder – it seemed to be pounding a painful rhythm inside his skull, reminding him of everything that was wrong. He looked at Hermione again and noticed that her features were blurred, that was wrong. He looked at Rob's arm around her and that was even more wrong. And then suddenly a horrid flash of a letter from the Ministry came to his mind and he downed an entire shot of what could only have been whisky. 

And then suddenly there was a girl in front of him. The only thing that he knew for sure was that she was a girl, and then drunken instincts took over and he pulled her roughly to him and kissed her as hard as he could, wishing the world would cease to exist and him with it.

-

Hermione had actually begun to let herself have fun. She felt comfortable in the arms of Rob, who felt more like a brother to her than anything else - A very attractive brother, yes, but a brother just the same. She did her very best not to look at Draco as the night wore on. She knew if she did, she'd be pulled out of whatever enjoyment she'd been feeling.

But after a long while, Rob turned her so that Draco fell into her direct line of sight.

Hermione froze in shock and horror as she watched Draco kiss a random girl. Pain. Pain like she'd never felt. She wanted to run. She wanted to hit him. She wanted to attack the girl, whoever she was, but it hurt too much to move.

And then a deeper sorrow replaced the pain when she saw the tears running down Draco's face as his tongue wrapped visibly around the girl's.

_Oh Jesus. Draco…_

She didn't even feel herself move. Even later, she didn't remember making a decision to go to him. But suddenly she was in front of him, reaching out to him. She wanted to make his pain, and whatever the cause of his tears, go away, but she didn't know how.

She took his face in her hands and looked deep into his eyes. The anguish in them was too much for her to bear. The man in front of her was completely shattered. He let out a sob and fell to the floor, hitting his head and back on the corner of the table, rendered unconscious by alcohol consumption and torment unknown.

000

If you are wondering about the chapter title, it's the title of the song that was playing in my head over and over as I wrote this chapter.

"This is it now, everybody get down, this is all I can take, this is how a heart breaks." This is also the song that I would have imagined Draco getting drunk to in this scene. I would have specified it as the song at the party were it not for the fact that 'This Is How a Heart Breaks' was released in 2005 and this chapter takes place in September of 1997…yeah.

One of my lovely reviewers commented that this story doesn't get enough reviews and I QUITE AGREE. Do something about that. : )

I'm adopting the motto, 'If you can read it, you can review it.' Seriously people. Aside from the fact that I love the feedback, there is the simple fact that people generally feel more inclined to read a story that has a lot of reviews. So prove you love me and help me out!

Amanda

8-10-06

PS – the next chapter is another one that I'm really looking forward to. And for those of you who are wondering when the hell they are going to figure this out and get together, its coming soon, I swear. Just stick with me a little longer: )


	18. No Closer To Heaven

**Disclaimer: Is this really necessary?**

I was browsing through fics today and discovered that I was drawn to the ones that had intriguing quotes from the story in the description…I think I'll do the same for this story. I'd appreciate it if you could let me know what your favorite lines and parts are, like what would go best in a description box, to hook people. Yeah?

_**Decembergirl – Thank you for pointing out that mistake, I fixed it. : )**_

_**Elfie – Thanks, that's really nice of you!**_

**Xridgegodessx – That's quite a compliment, thanks! I don't know how I do it…lol**

_**Magicke Moste Evile – Thank you so much for your in depth review, it helped a lot!**_

_**Katka – I told you! You're going to adore it….**_

**_Justapril – Thanks, I will try not to disappoint._**

Thanks so much for a the reviews, you really rose to the occasion, keep it up:D

**And I would also like to assure you all that there is no way in hell I will ever abandon this story. Trust me when I tell you its all I think about.**

When there is a delay after a chapter it's because I'm recuperating. It's the strangest thing…after I write a particularly emotional chapter, like the last three have been, I find myself drained emotionally. I really feel the emotions I write and it takes a lot out of me. Sometimes I feel like I've just run a marathon when I hit that 'add chapter' button….lol So then I run off and let Pansy's Volcano works it's miracles on me until I have the energy to write again.

**And on with show….!**

**I hope it doesn't let you down. I should probably warn you that this chapter is rather heavy and contains a bit of fluff…**

**000**

Hermione followed Draco's body with her own as he fell to the floor, without even thinking. Sinking to her knees, her face white as paper, her breath hitched painfully as she bent over Draco's limp form. A sickening feeling of guilt that she'd been ignoring him the whole night and subsequently hadn't noticed the state he was in washed over her as she reached out and clutched his arm, shaking him lightly. 

The alarmed faces of the people who watched were lost on her as the party around them faded away. 

"Draco," she whispered to him.

He didn't answer; he barely seemed to be breathing. Hermione felt her chest tighten in fear. His blond hair was scattered across his face, covering his eyes. Hermione needed to see his eyes. She pushed his hair gently off his forehead in an attempt to see him better, but it was to no avail.

Fresh panic rose in her and she shook him a little harder, but she knew he wouldn't rouse. 

Normally, the kind of fear that was gripping her might have clouded her ability to think straight, but right now her concern for Draco brought her clarification. She knew she had to get him back to her house where she could help him. She looked around desperately, trying to think of a way to get him out of there; she knew there was no way she could carry him.

She would have to use magic, but she had left her wand at home in her bedroom. She knew Draco well enough to know he never let his wand out of his reach, so she reached down to search him. The black cloak he was wearing covered him completely and she had to pull it open to even hope for a chance to find his wand – it didn't occur to her that anyone who had looked at Draco through the evening would probably have wondered why he was wearing a cape…

The moment she pulled open the black fabric she almost wished she hadn't. His own blood tarnished Draco's white oxford shirt. Several wounds, which Hermione could tell were still bleeding slowly by the bright red of the stains, were soaking through the thin fabric. Now positively alarmed, she tore open the front of his shirt and found more bruises and cuts on his skin.

"Oh Jesus. Oh Jesus…" she whispered frantically. All thoughts of where she was and who was watching vanished as she wrapped her arms around him and apparated the both of them to her parlor.

"Mum! Dad!" she cried in desperation. "Help!"

John and Jane Granger sensed the urgency in their daughter's voice and hurried in to the front hall to find her bent over Draco's sagging body. They exchanged a significant look that Hermione didn't see and both got on their knees next to her.

"What happened?" Asked Jane.

"He drank too much, and he's hurt," she replied, pulling herself away from his body so that her parents could see his wounds. If Hermione's parents were disconcerted by the fact that there had been alcohol involved in Draco's current state, they didn't voice it.

Jane reach forward quickly and pressed the back of her hand to Draco's forehead.

"He's burning up, John," she said seriously. "Hermione, what happened to him?"

Hermione shook her head fervently. "I don't know. He blacked out and when I opened his cloak to look for his wand his shirt was already soaked."

Jane nodded and picked up Draco's wrist to feel his pulse. Hermione clutched his other arm and looked hard at him, almost to reassure herself that he was still alive. 

"We need to cool him down," said Jane, getting quickly to her feet. "John, can you carry him up to his room?"

Before her father had a change to oblige, Hermione swept her hands through Draco's robe and found his wand.

"Don't bother," she muttered as she waved the wand quickly and Draco's body rose gracefully into the air.

John and Jane exchanged another significant look that was lost on Hermione, for they had only just gotten used to their daughter using magic in front of them. They followed her up the stairs and down the hall and watched as she let Draco fall lightly onto the bed and then climbed on after him, reaching out to keep a hand on him.

"Hermione," her father said quietly. "He'll be okay, but we need to get his clothes off him so that we can clean his wounds."

Hermione nodded and began to pull Draco's cloak off of him. This task was hindered by the fact that Draco was incapable of independent movement, but Hermione managed. Her breath hitched one more as she discovered that his entire upper body was covered in abrasions, some large and some small. Soon she had his shirt off of him and only his trousers remained.

She looked questioningly at her parents and they shook their heads, indicating that the removal of said trousers was unnecessary. 

If Hermione had been thinking about it at the time she would honestly have been able to say that she felt nothing but concern for his injured state. The fact that he was half naked meant nothing to her. He needed help and the only way to give it was to take away his clothing. 

Her parents, who had been watching gravely from beside the bed, knew that their daughter needed to be the one to help Draco; so they stood there, waiting to be of use whenever Hermione decided she needed them. But she was doing fine on her own.

She cast a quick cooling spell over Draco and reached out for his hand to feel for the change. It was then that she noticed the swelling of his hand. She looked closely at it and felt more color drain from her already pallid face. She could actually feel the broken bones. Several of his fingers were slightly out of place and he had purple bruises all over his knuckles.

How long had he been walking around with a broken hand? Hermione didn't even want to think about it…

"Oh God…" she whispered. "His hand is…"

And then the terrible realization that he had done this to himself hit her and the even more terrible conclusion that the other lesions on his body were likely his own doing too came crashing over her. 

She felt tears rolling down her face as she wondered what in God's name could have provoked him to hit something hard enough to break his own hand.

She felt his pain then and she didn't know what to do for him when she didn't know why he was hurting so.

It was then that her father put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her gently to face him. Both his and her mother's faces were as white as their daughter's. 

"Hermione, look," her father said solemnly, giving her the piece of paper he had just found about a minute earlier on the floor next to the bed.

Hermione read the words quickly and felt horror rise in her as her heart broke.

**Mr. Draco Malfoy**

**The Ministry of Magic expresses our deepest condolences to inform you that the body of Narcissa Malfoy was found on the morning of September the 7th, 1997. **

The cause of her death has yet to be determined, though we can assure you that the matter is under careful investigation. It is clear that her death was not accidental, but more than that we cannot say as of yet.

Once more, we express our most profound sympathy at the loss of your mother. We will, of course, leave the details of any memorial service or burial to you.

We will be in contact as the investigation continues on.

Signed,  
_Alastor Gumboil_

**Magical Law Enforcement Squad**

Hermione choked out a sob as her eyes were drawn again to Draco's pale features. The anguish she'd seen in his eyes before he collapsed made sense now, and it pierced her like a jagged blade. No wonder…

Draco's body began to shake as if he knew what had just taken place above him. Hermione choked out another sob as she wrapped her arms around him, willing him to stop shaking, totally oblivious to her parents watching her.

His body went still again and she felt him breath deeply against her. After a long moment of holding him in her arms, she released him and moved herself off of the bed and away from him.

"He'll be okay," she said in a voice of forced calm. "He's stopped bleeding and his fever's gone. He needs to sleep."

"Hermione," her mother said gently. "His wounds need to be cleaned and several of them need to be sutured."

Hermione knew her mother was right, but she didn't think she could stand to touch Draco's mangled skin again. But then it occurred to her that she didn't have to. She was, after all, a witch.

"I'll be right back," she said. She hurried from the room and retrieved her wand from the top drawer of her desk. She could have used Draco's wand again but she knew the best results would come from her own. Moments later she reentered the guest room, wand in hand. 

If her parents wondered at all what she was going to do they didn't say it. They had, in the past, expressed their disapproval of the use of magic to solve medical problems, but they knew that this wasn't the time to protest.

Hermione crossed to the bed and clambered up until she was kneeling next to Draco. She pointed her wand at each wound and muttered, _"scourgify."_ If Draco had been conscious it was probably have hurt like hell.

When all visible wounds were clean, Hermione cast a simply repairing spell over each one. She had no idea of whether or not it would work, but it did. Soon his skin was healed and only his broken hand remained. Hermione knew that a simply repairing charm wouldn't heal broken bones, so she left it alone.

She moved off the bed again and stood beside her parents.

"As simple as that…" her father muttered in an unreadable voice. Hermione knew, however, that her father was at least somewhat perturbed by the ease with which magic had healed wounds that would have taken weeks to heal on their own. But there was no arguing that Hermione's charms had been effective, and that was what mattered ultimately, so he held his tongue.

Now that the risk of infection was gone there was only one physical problem left – aside from the broken hand – and that was just how very intoxicated Draco was. Hermione had never been drunk, but she knew without a doubt that Draco would have a bastard of a hangover when he woke up; unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about that…

"Come on," she said to her parents. "He needs to sleep it off."

The Grangers left Draco to sleep and walked down the hall silently together. When they reached Hermione's room, she made to enter it, but her mother stopped her.

"Hermione…"

Hermione knew that her parents wanted to say many things to her. They doubtless wanted to talk to her about her feelings and the gravity of the situation, but Hermione just didn't have it in her at the moment.

"Mum," she said, "I just want to be alone. I need to rest too."

Her mother bit her lip and nodded wordlessly.

Hermione sighed wearily. "I'll check in on him in a few hours," she said simply. "Don't worry about it."

Her mother gave her a quick hug and kissed her on the cheek. 

-

It was nearing midnight as Hermione sank into her bed. She felt completely drained. This had been possibly the longest day of her life.

She felt she'd lived an entire lifetime in the space of a single day. She'd certainly gone through a wider range of emotions than she'd previously thought possible. As the day faded away from her and sleep threatened to overtake her, she was left to consider just how much she was bound to Draco Malfoy. What happened to him mattered to her. The pain he felt was her pain too. How had it come to be so? When had she surrendered herself?

The last thought she remembered having before falling asleep was that it didn't matter when it had happened, or why. The fact was that she loved him.

-

The clock read 3:23 when Hermione's eyes flicked open a few sort hours later. She remembered almost instantly that she needed to check on Draco. She rose quietly from her bed and changed into the simplest of sleeping attire – cotton shorts and a long t-shirt. She slipped her robe on and moved quietly down the hall to Draco's room.

She didn't think there was any chance he'd be awake, or that opening the door would wake him, but she opened it as quietly as she could all the same. She closed it lightly behind her and then turned and walked to the side of the bed to peer down at the sleeping boy.

There was no light in the room but that of the moon coming through the window. Hermione's eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to see clearly enough, though. 

Draco was breathing deeply; lying in the same position she'd left him in. The bluish light of the moon rested gently on his features and Hermione found she was fascinated by it. She'd never seen him like this before, so at peace. He was glowing again. Or maybe it just seemed that way…

Hermione moved slowly toward him, wanting to touch him. She almost told herself it was only because she needed to assess his condition, but she couldn't bother lying to herself.

She knelt down on the bed next to him and reached out to him. It did strike her now that he was half naked, and she didn't think she'd ever seen anything more magnificent than Draco's bare chest rising and falling gently. She smiled slightly as the words she loved came to her.

_And I wonder this: could tomorrow be so wondrous as you there sleeping?_

As her hand ran lightly over his cheek, she decided the answer was no.

She pushed his hair off his forehead and leaned in close to him to see him better. She wanted very much to lie down next to him and stay there, but she didn't. Even in her mesmerized state she knew that was out of the question. She allowed herself several more minutes of stroking his hair and watching him before moving away. She needed to sleep. Maybe she'd wake up in the morning to find this was all a dream.

She sighed quietly as she moved to the edge of the bed to leave.

"Granger," Draco's deep voice croaked. His left hand grabbed weakly onto her arm. It was so light that she could easily have pulled it free, but he might as well have latched onto her for there was no way she would be able to move another muscle now that he was touching her. 

Cursing herself for getting herself into this position, she looked anywhere but the eyes that she knew were watching her. She should have been more careful. She'd told him never to touch her but at the first opportunity she'd broken her own rule. That meant she'd open the door for him to touch her back.

She sat motionless for a long moment until she felt his fingers tighten around her wrist slightly.

"Granger," he croaked again, "Stay with me."

"You're drunk," she said.

He chuckled sleepily and said, "You're right. Such is life…"

He tugged on Hermione's arm, trying to get her to move closer to him. She resisted and he let go of her arm. She could tell immediately that he was upset. Hermione knew that when you're drunk your emotions sway unchecked, but it still didn't prepare her for what he said next.

"Why does he get to touch you and I don't?"

Hermione automatically looked right into his eyes and wished immediately that she hadn't. There was that pain in his eyes again…

"What?" she said, startled.

"Son of a bitch thinks he can touch you…" muttered Draco moodily. 

Hermione didn't know what to say. She just stared at him questioningly, waiting for something to happen.

"It hurts," he said, wincing at whatever was causing him pain.

_Yes it does…_

"Make it stop."

_I don't know how._

"Let me hold you."

"Why?"

But he didn't answer. He just closed his eyes and breathed.

A million things were going through Hermione's mind. She knew how risky it would be to let him put his arms around her. It would mean so many things. Or it would mean nothing at all. That was even worse. 

But as she looked at him, she knew he needed to hold someone. And she was the only someone available for him to hold. His need for something to take away his pain outweighed her need to guard herself. 

So she let everything go and lied down next to him, her last coherent thought being that he wouldn't remember it in the morning.

He opened his eyes in surprise and found her looking right into them, only inches away from his face.

Hermione reached out and stroked his hair and he closed his eyes again. Her breath was almost taken away when he turned onto his side in one fluid motion and despite his weakened condition, wrapped two strong arms around her and pulled her to him. She did the same and rested her forehead against his shoulder.

She breathed him in and closed her eyes. The sweet traces of liquor mingled with his natural scent and she felt intoxicated by it. She relaxed completely in his arms, as if it were the most natural thing in the world and she'd been made specifically for it. Her head against his shoulder, her breasts against his chest, her hips molded against his and her legs twined in his legs, she felt she could have died then and been no closer to heaven. It didn't matter that the morning would come and it would all be over, it only mattered that she stayed in his arms right now.

And with that Hermione fell into the most peaceful sleep she'd ever had.

**000**

Okay, I'd really like to know what you all thought of this chapter, it meant a lot to me, so feedback would me most welcome. :)

I'll get started on the next chapter either tonight or tomorrow, now I'm off to work!

Amanda

**8-12-06**

****


	19. Then The Morning Comes

Collide

Then The Morning Comes  
Chapter Nineteen

000

Truth be told, John and Jane Granger had almost _expected _to find their daughter in the position they found her in the morning after her party: in the arms of Draco Malfoy.

When they walked past Hermione's open bedroom door to find the room empty, there was only one obvious conclusion. Sure enough, when they opened the door of the guest room ever so quietly, they found her lying on her side, flush against Draco, holding him like she'd never let him go and sleeping more deeply then they'd ever know her to do. 

And Draco was doing the same.

Any discomfort they may have felt at finding their teenage daughter in bed with a teenage boy was put to rest by the fact that both were fully clothed.

Actually that wasn't quite true. Although they were sure that Draco and Hermione hadn't had sex with each other, there was more to it that worried them. Hermione's parents knew exactly who Draco Malfoy was. They'd known since they'd run into his cruel father five years ago in Diagon Alley. And although they truly believed that Draco was not his father, there were other things that weren't so easy to look past.

They weren't fools; they knew the kind of life Draco had lived. They understood all to well the world in which he'd been raised. He'd been taught from early childhood that he was superior to everyone else. Hatred and arrogance had been drilled into him like simple arithmetic. Generations of wizards before him had led him to despise people like John and Jane.

In previous years Hermione had told them on more than one occasion the things that Draco had said about her. He'd called her a Mudblood, meaning her blood was dirty because she'd been born to non-magical parents. They automatically detested anyone who regarded their amazing child as unclean, unworthy of her place in the magical world. Again, they weren't stupid. Every parent is automatically protective and appreciative of their child, but they knew that Hermione was special – and not just speaking of her magical abilities. Hermione was brilliant, and kind, and true – she was the kind of person every parent dreams of siring.

Anyone who didn't see that was simply unworthy of their daughter. And they'd thought just that about Draco Malfoy until two things had caught them off guard.

The first was that the boy had saved Hermione's life. That alone was enough to forgive him of his prejudices. When they'd learned he was going to come home with Hermione, they had been willing and eager to accept them graciously into their household – partly because of what he'd done for Hermione and partly because they were just that classy. 

Then the second thing happened, something unexpected. Draco had shown up and they'd seen it immediately. There was no mistaking the way he looked at Hermione. They had watched carefully and the more they watched, the more certain they became. Draco was in love with their daughter. Despite her 'dirty blood,' her inferiority, he loved her.

If they were being honest with themselves, this wasn't all that surprising. Who wouldn't love Hermione?

But then an even more surprising thing became clear to them; that Hermione was in love with Draco.

She looked at him the way he looked at her. It also became apparent to the Grangers that neither Draco nor Hermione was aware of the way the other felt. They could feel the uncertainty and misunderstanding in the air. The tension between them crackled in the air almost tangibly.

At first this was baffling, but after a while it made perfect sense. Both were blinded by prejudice and the surety that the prejudice of the other would prevent reciprocation of their feeling. In other words – in their minds, there was no way that someone who had claimed to hate them for years could ever love them.

In the beginning, the idea that two people who had hated each other from the moment they'd laid eyes on each other could suddenly be in love with each other had seemed unlikely, if not outright ridiculous, but then it occurred to them that this must have been a long time coming.

It was all John and Jane could do not to sit Draco and Hermione down in a room and smack their heads together until they understood. But wisdom and years stopped them. They knew that the two had to figure it out on their own – and figure in out they would.

They had watched silently the night before as Hermione almost broke from worry and pain over the boy she loved. They hadn't interfered, knowing that it would only exacerbate the situation, but it frightened them. They had seen in that moment that Hermione would move heaven and earth for him. If she had to make a choice between her heart and her mind, she would choose her heart. She would choose Draco.

But would he do the same? If it came down to it, would he forsake his pureblood world, ignore his traditions and give himself to Hermione?

John and Jane weren't so sure of this. They knew that Draco loved Hermione as much as he knew how – they could tell – but would it be enough? To put it plainly, Draco had a lot of baggage, especially for one so young. How could he not, considering the kind of father he'd had? And now his mother was dead.

Something dark was brewing in the wizarding world, and the Grangers couldn't help wondering if the attempt on Hermione's life and the murder of Draco's mother were somehow connected.

If they were, then both Draco and Hermione were in more danger than they realized, for anyone who would try to kill Hermione because she was Muggle-born – they assumed this was the reason for her attack – would most certainly hate her even more if they found out that one of their own precious pureblood sons had fallen in love with her.

And now as they watched the two cling to each other in their sleep, a fusion of hope and foreboding filled them.

The hope was that Draco would, through his love for Hermione, find his way from the darkness. The foreboding stemmed from their worry that Hermione, through her love for Draco, would fall into darkness.

Hermione and Draco were part of a world that her parents could never be a part of. It was incredibly hard for them to sit and watch from the sidelines as the storm raged. But they didn't have a choice. They were powerless.

In a world where someone could speak a single word (or two) to kill someone else, even love was dangerous.

And so they left the guest bedroom on the second floor of the home they'd built together in silence.

Something had to give, and soon.

They just hoped no one else ended up dead.

-

Hermione woke up to light pouring through the window of the guest bedroom. She didn't immediately recognize her surroundings, but it only took a split second for the memories of the night before to come back to her.

She felt Draco's arms around her. She could feel his chest rising and falling against hers. She could feel his heart thumping gently. She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent, allowing herself to smile. Then she opened her eyes and her let her sleepy gaze trace his exquisite features.

For one simple moment she was at peace. And then reality kicked in, like it always did after a moment like this with Draco. 

She remembered every detail of the previous day and she remember the last thing she'd thought before she'd fallen asleep – that Draco wouldn't remember asking to hold her. It therefore became crucial that she extricate herself from his arms quickly.

But she didn't dare move. Part of her didn't want to let go, but an even more prevalent part of her was terrified that if she did he would wake up and wonder what the hell she was doing in his bed. She didn't even want to imagine look on his face.

But after several moments of painstaking deliberation, her instinct to protect herself took over and she held her breath as she began to disentangle herself from Draco.

But she didn't get far. Almost the moment she'd moved she felt his arms tighten around her, making it impossible to get away. She wondered if this was just an unconscious instinct of Draco's, but when he spoke to her she knew it wasn't.

"Don't go."

When she didn't answer, he opened his eyes and looked right into hers. She felt a lump rise in her throat as she realized that he knew exactly what was going on.

The truth was that Draco had been awake off and on through the night, quite aware of the fact that he was holding Hermione and enjoying it immensely. 

She tried to pull away again and he didn't permit it.

"Um, good morning," she said awkwardly, not knowing what else to do.

"Mmm…" he replied groggily. "I feel like shit."

Hermione giggled softly. "You, er, had…quite a night last night."

"So did you. I never figured you for a party animal…" he replied through a scratchy throat.

"Oh!" she said in surprise. "I didn't think…"

"You didn't think I'd remember you bouncing around like a stray bludger?" There was a hint of smugness in his voice – "I'll never be _that_ drunk…"

Hermione didn't know what to make of that comment so she didn't even try. "What else do you remember?" she asked nervously.

"Are you asking me if I know why you're in my bed?"

"Er…"

"That part is a little hazy," he said. He was lying, but she didn't know it.

"Oh," she said, feeling uneasy. This was not good. How was she going to explain this one away? It didn't help matters that her thoughts were clouded by the proximity of his puffy lips. She had a sudden urge to close the small distance and taste him, but she pushed it down, biting her lip instead.

His eyes automatically flickered down to her lips, then back to her eyes. He smiled knowingly at her and she felt herself blush.

He started to laugh at her and she stiffened immediately. But then her annoyance ended as quickly at it began as his face tensed up and he rolled away from her.

"What's wrong?" she asked, trying but failing to keep the worry out of her voice.

"What do you think is wrong, Granger?" he said, flashing her an incredulous look. "I drank enough to sink a small canoe. I feel like I've been hit by a train."

"Oh," she said. "That."

"Yes, that," he muttered. "Fucking hell, my head is killing me."

Hermione's heart leapt as she was oddly turned on by Draco's profanity. _Where did that come from?_

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, running his left hand through his morning hair. It was then that she remembered the condition of his right hand, which effectively drew her away from her treacherous thoughts.

"Draco, your hand – I think its broken-" she muttered, sitting up slightly as she leaned over to inspect his fractured fingers.

She didn't even notice that she'd called him by his first name, and if he did, he didn't say anything.

He snorted slightly. "Yeah," he said with an uncomfortable smirk. "That can happen when you…" Draco trailed off, knowing he's said too much.

_Put your fist through a wall?_ She thought. It hit her very hard just then why Draco had been compelled to drink his weight in vodka. His mother had been murdered. She felt the pain she felt the night before as she gazed at his broken hand.

Sympathy welled up in her and she spoke without thinking. "I'm so sorry about your mother…"

She knew immediately she should have kept her mouth shut. Draco's calm demeanor disappeared at he stiffened. He turned a cold glare toward Hermione that made her wince slightly.

"_What_?" he said sharply.

Words failed Hermione as her wide eyes stared back into his icy silver ones. He could have no doubt now that she'd read the letter from the ministry and she honestly couldn't blame him for being angry.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn't have…I mean-"

"Get out."

"Draco!" she said painfully, needing to explain herself. "I'm really sorry…I didn't mean to-"

"I don't need your pity, Granger," he said harshly, "and I don't need your help."

Hermione became instantly angry. _That's not what you said last night._

"You bastard!" she spat. She couldn't believe he could sit there say that after everything she'd done for him the night before.

"Excuse me?" he said, glaring at her.

All the peace and warmth she'd felt in his arms was gone as she opened fire on him.

"You passed out at my party and I apparated you home!" she snapped. She intended to tell him just how much he'd needed her help. "I apparated in front of my friends, Malfoy. They _saw _my put my arms around you and _disappear._ How am I going to explain that?" 

He just stared coldly at her as she went on.

"I performed magic in front of muggles because you felt sorry for yourself and couldn't hold your liquor."

She knew she was being a little insensitive but she didn't care. This was _exactly_ what she'd been afraid would happen.

"And since you are so blissfully ignorant of how I ended up in your bed, let me fill you in." She narrowed her eyes in anger. "I came in here to make sure you were still alive and then next thing I knew you were begging me to let you hold me."

She felt herself blushing again but she continued to glare defiantly at him.

"And I'm sure you remember the part where I tried to leave quietly and you wouldn't let go of me, since it was about _five minutes ago_."

He remained silent and it was starting to irk her. Surely he should have something to say! When he continued to glare vehemently at her she went on, though a little less sure of herself this time.

"And it's not like I went digging through your personal belongings to get information. You left that letter on the floor, Malfoy."

The moment she mentioned the letter, Draco became even more cold, if that was possible.

"Get out. Now."

Hermione set her jaw and nodded wordlessly. So this was how it was going to be. Fine. Part of the blame rested on her and she knew that. She known better but she'd let down her defenses. She should have walked away the moment he'd asked her to lie down next to him. Now she was screwed and there was no way out of it.

She left the room without a backward glance and closed the door behind her.

-

A very bitter Draco watched her go and didn't think twice.

He'd been drunk several times in his life and he'd never had a problem remembering the things that happened while he was wasted - it was an odd trait that was sometimes a blessing and sometimes a curse. He remembered very well watching Hermione practically grind against her asshole friend. He remembered everything up until the moment he'd blacked out.

And then he remembered waking up in his current location in the middle of the night to find most of the pain in his limbs gone. He had still been quite inebriated at the time, but he clearly remember waking up again and feeling Hermione in the room. He'd asked her to stay with him. He hadn't thought about the consequences at the time, an unfortunate side effect of excessive alcohol consumption.

But she'd complied, for whatever reason. He hadn't questioned it at the time for obvious reasons. And in the morning he'd felt her stirring in his arms and instinct had made him hold on to her.

He'd pretended not to remember, partly because he wanted to find out what she thought about what he'd done, and partly because he didn't want to admit he'd been quite aware of asking her to basically wrap herself around him.

He could sense how unsure she'd been when she'd awakened to find him still holding her. The use of his first name was not lost on him either, but he'd chosen not to make a big deal of it. It seemed like the whole thing would pass without any unnecessary awkward feelings, but then she'd ruined it.

He didn't even want to think about the fact that his mother was dead, let alone that Hermione knew exactly why he'd been drinking – well, she didn't know all of it. There was of course that fact that it had driven him crazy to see her with another guy, but at the moment he didn't particularly want to think about that little detail.

He'd now lost his family. He was completely alone in the world. And as good as it had felt to have Hermione willingly in his arms, he didn't want her pity.

Hermione feeling sorry for him only reminded him of just how alone he was.

Several moments after she'd closed the door he felt a painful twinge, but he shoved it away quickly. 

The last thing he needed was weakness. 

**000**

A/N - You didn't think it would be that easy did you?  
This is Draco and Hermione. It will never be easy.  
But all is not lost, stay with me.

On that bright note, have a lovely day and keep reviewing:D

Amanda

PS – Some of you have commented that it is highly unlikely that Draco and Hermione could fall in love in only a week. I quite agree. I thought I'd covered that though. I meant to make it clear that though they've only realized it of late, they've had feeling for each other for a long time. Maybe I should go back through it…

Its probably true that JKR's Draco and Hermione might find it a little more difficult, but my Draco and Hermione have harbored an unrealized passion for each other for quite some time – that's the beauty of fan fiction. **: )**

PPS – It was all I could do not to include the longwinded rant I went on about my intentions for this story in these notes. I didn't want to burden the chapter with my issues. However, I did save it to my computer and it is rather awesome. If anyone would like to read it, let me know.

Thanks again, Shayeri, for your suggestions.****

8-15-06

Updated 8-20-06-

I'm very sorry for the lateness of chapter 20, it will be up soon, hopefully within the next day or so. I haven't been on the computer at all for the last few days until now. I'd pain having terrible pain and I ended up in the ER yesterday for four hours until they diagnosed me with kidney stones and sent me home.

So although I could finish writing the chapter right now, I think you'll like the result better if I wait until I'm not so full of narcotics that I can't think straight. (Which is where I am right now)

Check back here for updates, I'll let you know when I'm almost there.**  
**


	20. Little Miss Perfect

A/N – This story is not complete, I repeat, NOT COMPLETE. There is more to write and I will keep writing until it's finished, no matter how long it takes. Just stick it on your alerts list and try to maintain some patience.

Collide

**Chapter Twenty**

**Little Miss Perfect  
000**

"Son of a bitch…" muttered Hermione through clenched teeth as she walked down the hall of her home to stand in front of her own bedroom door. She'd just left Draco Malfoy, whom she was beginning to think was psychotic in addition to being an asshole, lying in the bed of the guest room. Aside from being alone and quite hung-over, he was undoubtedly just as irritated as she was at the moment. Irritated was actually an understatement. 'Livid,' 'irate,' even 'hurt' were more accurate words.

As twisted as it may have been, it was oddly satisfying to Hermione to know that Draco was as pissed off as she was. If he was going through even the slightest portion of upheaval that she was it was no more than he deserved. It was true that she'd allowed herself to be sucked into him again, but didn't he share some responsibility? Shouldn't he be accountable for messing with her head and using her for his own selfish purposes, and then discarding her like dirty laundry the moment he decided he didn't need her anymore?

It had happened three times now. She'd let down her guard and he'd attacked.

The first time he'd kissed her, outside that restaurant, Hermione had felt the earth fall from under her feet. She'd been totally gone, as terrifying as that was to admit. She'd been at Draco's mercy. A miracle had come in the form of her mother's voice calling and had saved her. Thinking back on it, Hermione honestly didn't know what would have happened if her mother hadn't called her name and shocked her back into reality.

She would have liked to think that she wouldn't have ended up losing her virginity to Draco against a brick wall, but the truth was, that wasn't outside the realm of possibilities – another terrifying thought in and of itself. Hermione had never thought she was the kind of girl who would be so attracted to a man that all rational thoughts would abandon her when he kissed her, but the way she'd reacted to Draco twice now suggested otherwise.

It made it so much worse that it was Draco who had this power over her – Draco, who had so far only abused that power. And he most certainly knew he had it or he wouldn't have kissed her the second time, or asked her to stay with him.

Both times, Hermione had let it happen and then had regretted it immediately afterwards. Both times, because Draco had ruined it.

It hurt so much that she loved him. Yes, she loved him and she knew it, and he could never know. He already knew he h ad a power over her just because she was attracted to him; imagine if he knew it went deeper than that…

And now, as she stood in front of her bedroom door, with half a mind to fly back into Draco's room and scream at him until she couldn't scream anymore, and the other half telling her to lock herself in her closet and sob on her knees, she realized something: she had a power over him too.

He kissed her with the same ferocity that she kissed him. He'd held her just as tightly as she'd held him. Even if it was just physical attraction, it was something. It meant she had a few cards left to play. She'd never been the type to think of life in terms of a game, but that's what her life had become. It was a dangerous game and at the moment, every one had control but Hermione. Someone shot her and she just had to react. Draco kissed her and she had to react. Draco passed out drunk and all she could do, was react. Power rested in everyone's hands but hers.

But not for long.

Hermione was so tired in that moment in front of her door of having everything decided for her. What would it be like if she became the force that everyone _else_ had to react to?

She could love him, but she didn't have to let him rule her. Her choices were her own, and she decided right then and there that she would never be a victim again.

Bad things could happen, but she didn't have to let them dictate her life.

Hermione turned face and marched quickly back down the hall to Draco's room. She flung open his door and stepped in to find him first massaging his throbbing temples, and then looking at her in surprise.

She felt a twinge of pity for him in his hung over condition but she ignored it and went on with the reason she had gone back.

"All right, Malfoy. Let's get a few things straight," Hermione started with her eyes narrowed.

"I'm pretty sure I told you to get the hell out, Granger," growled Draco.

"You did. I came back," said Hermione, refusing to be sidetracked. She didn't know exactly what she was going to say, she was just sick of Draco's shit.

"Yes, I can see that," muttered Draco. "Granger, -"

"Just shut up, Malfoy," snapped Hermione.

"Don't tell me to-"

"What part of 'shut up, Malfoy' do you not understand?"

Draco's mouth snapped shut, clearly taken aback by Hermione's persistent forcefulness.

"We've had this conversation before but we're going have it again since you don't seem to be grasping the concept. Let's hope you get it through that thick skull of yours this time." Hermione folded her arms and narrowed her eyes even further.

"What are you-"

"I told you before we left Hogwarts that you didn't need to be here. I told you I didn't need you. For whatever reason, you decided to come with me anyway. I didn't ask you why and frankly it doesn't matter why. Your reasons are your reasons. But I would appreciate it very much if you would stop acting like I dragged you along."

Draco was openly glaring at Hermione but he wasn't saying anything, so Hermione went on.

"I mean, Merlin Draco, you are free to leave at any time. I'm not holding you against your will, which is more than you can say."

"What-" Draco said in an affronted tone. Hermione cut him off before he could argue."I made it perfectly clear before we came here and several times since that I didn't want you touching me."

Draco's mouth snapped shut again.

"I'm going to say it one more time. Don't. Touch me. Don't kiss me. Don't ask me to let you put your arms around me just because you know I feel sorry for you."

Draco eyes darkened as he said, "I told you I don't need your pity-"

Hermione ignored him as she went on. "I've had enough of you taking advantage of me-"

"_Taking advantage of you?_" Draco said incredulously. "What the fuck are you talking about, Granger? I have never taken advantage of you."

"Oh please. The first time I can look past. It was a stupid mistake and I have no idea where it came from. But the second time, in that alley, that was you taking advantage of me in my weakness."

Draco stared at her for a moment as though he was deciding on what to say. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about, about me taking advantage of you – but as I recall, you kissed me back, Hermione."

"I – you…you knew I would. You know –" Hermione stuttered, not sure where to go. She had kissed him back but as she hadn't really faced that fact herself, she didn't quite know how to defend it. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all…

"I know what?" Draco pushed.

"You know – you know what you do to me! You make me weak…I –" Hermione realized just what she'd said and she knew from the stunned look on Draco's face that he did too, but she couldn't stop herself. "That's why you kissed me, because you know that I can't stop you."

Draco gawked at her for a moment before narrowing his eyes again. "Is that what you think? That I kissed you because I know you…fancy me, or something? Like I get some sick pleasure from knowing I can…control you?"

Hermione was blushing but she looked at him defiantly at him. "That's exactly what I think."

Draco could have pushed the issue of her admitting she fancied him, but instead he went on. "Let me tell you something, Granger. Listen closely. I have no shortage of women who fancy me. I can have _any woman I want._ I don't need to take advantage of anyone. I don't need to force anyone to kiss me. I kissed you because I wanted to kiss you – because I _like _kissing you."

Hermione felt like she'd been slapped across the face. She didn't know how to begin to process this information, let alone form a response to it. A million confused thoughts were running through her head and she didn't even have enough room to be annoyed by his arrogance. She didn't know what to think, or say, so she finally settled on, _"Why?" _

Draco actually laughed out loud at this, which then caused him to start coughing and cringing. His body doubled up in a spasm and before Hermione knew what she was doing she was sitting next to him on the bed with her hand on his forehead.

It took several long moments before Draco had a hold on himself but by that time it was too late. Hermione had already put her hand on him.

"So you're allowed to touch me but I'm not allowed to touch you?" he said in a scratchy voice, turning on to his side to glare at her.

She removed her hand from his skin hastily and looked away. "That's different," she muttered.

"How?" he challenged.

"I – I touched you because you're sick. You touch me because…because…you –"

"There you go assuming you know my motives again. Well since you started, why do you think I touch you? Out of curiosity." Draco raised his eyebrows expectantly. "Let's have it then."

"I…I-" Hermione had no idea what to say because she wasn't really sure what she was thinking. She did her best to collect her thoughts, and then went ahead cautiously. "I don't know why you do it, Malfoy. You are the one who's always said you wouldn't ever touch a 'mudblood.' You explain it to me."

Draco was silent for a while, as he looked her. "Things are different now, Granger," he finally said.

"What's changed?" she asked.

"You wouldn't understand."

Hermione felt like they were going in circles, skirting around something important, but never touching it. She wanted him to make her understand. She wanted to know exactly what had changed, but he wouldn't speak.

"I think you're afraid," she whispered.

"No, _you're_ afraid," he countered.

"I'm not afraid! What would I be afraid of? You're changing the subject because you don't want to tell me just exactly what the hell your problem is!"

"You _are _afraid. And I'm not changing the subject. This _is _the subject. You keep running away from me."

"_What?"_

"You heard me. I've kissed you twice now and _both _times it ended because you freaked out and ran away. Explain that."

When Hermione didn't respond he went on.

"Jesus, Granger. All I did was kiss you. People do it every day. It's not that big a deal."

That did it. Once again, Hermione felt like he'd slapped her across the face.

"That's just it, Malfoy! It _is_ a big deal. Kissing is a big deal, to me. That's why I don't want you kissing me; because it means nothing to you. I'm not just some girl who throws herself at you. I know how you work, Malfoy. You turn on the charm and women fall at your feet. You kiss them, and you sleep with them, and then you walk away. Well you're not going to do that with me. I'm not going to be your crutch."

"My what?"

"The last thing keeping you from rock bottom, the thing you use to make yourself feel better."

"But that's what you're best at, Granger, pitying me," Draco scoffed bitterly. "I don't need you as a crutch and I don't need your pi-"

"That's what you think? That I pity you?"

Draco clenched his jaw and looked away.

Suddenly it was all making sense to Hermione. He thought she felt sorry for him and he didn't like the way it felt.

"Well you're right. I do pity you –" Draco looked sharply up at her – "but not because you lost your mother. I pity you because you're too stubborn to see what's right in front of you. You are going to live a long life alone, Malfoy."

It was as though someone had lit a fire in Draco's cool silver eyes.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? What's right in front of me? Surely you don't mean you. You won't even let me _touch _you for God's sake."

Hermione was speechless again. How could she possibly explain that she wouldn't let him touch her because she was in love with him? It barely made sense to her…

"No. I think it all goes back to the same thing, Granger, that you're afraid. You're afraid of me. You're afraid to kiss me because of the way it makes you feel. You're afraid to give up control for even a second because that would mean that you aren't perfect, and Merlin knows we can't have that!" he mocked heatedly.

"I am_ not_ afraid."

"Yes, you are. That's what this is about. That's all this is about." He said, nodding in a way that infuriated her.

"Fuck you!" she spat. He looked mildly taken aback but she wanted him to yell back at her. She wanted to him to feel what she was feeling. "How would you know what this is about? You have no idea why…I – I never said I was perfect. You sit there and you act like you know what I'm thinking but you have no clue…"

Hermione was utterly torn. She knew she couldn't give too much away. She was backed into a corner and she couldn't get up and run out of the room because that would prove that he was right, that she was afraid. And she couldn't tell him that she was in love with him and that everything he did, everything he said, every move he made meant something to her because it came from _him._ If he knew that she might as well dig her own grave right then and there. She was completely stuck.

But then the only part that was left of Hermione took over. It was the strongest part of her. It was the part of her that had sustained and defined her up until this moment: determination.

"I am _not_ afraid," she said as she looked evenly into his eyes, trying to keep from him the torment she was battling.

"Prove it."

"Wha-"

"Kiss me."

Hermione felt her heart leap out of her chest. She could hear her pulse in her head and she wondered if her neighbors three houses down could hear it too.

"If you aren't afraid, then kiss me."

Hermione didn't take her eyes from Draco's as she sat there thinking desperately. She knew she shouldn't. She knew it was a bad idea. If she kissed him like this, voluntarily, then he'd know for sure. She'd never be able to say again that he'd kissed her against her will. But another part of her needed to face this. These feelings she was having were slowly tearing her apart from the inside and she knew as she looked into his eyes that she needed to stop running from them.

Responding to his challenge as much as her own, she leaned in towards him. His grey eyes were dark and his breathing was shallow and she knew she was the same. She thought her heart was going to pound a whole in her chest. She kept her eyes on his until the very last moment until her lips were only millimeters from his. Then she let her eyes fall shut and closed the distance to his lips with a tiny upward tilt of her chin.

His lips were soft and warm and the moment they touched he took in a quick breath through his nose and opened his mouth. Hermione felt lightheaded as her body took over. With someone else, open mouths might have been too much, but with Draco, it was just another challenge that he was almost daring her to back away from.

But she didn't back away, and she found she didn't want to back away.

She pushed her tongue into his open mouth and ran it along the edge of his, tasting him. She just wanted to feel him. His mouth was warm and welcoming and at the same time, it felt like she was in dangerous territory and it thrilled her. She deepened the kiss by pushing her open mouth harder against his and provoking his tongue to respond to hers.

Very soon, the two of them were openly battling with each other, willing each other to give in, to see who could handle more. It was the single most intimate moment Hermione had experienced up to that point – just two bodies breathing and understanding what was at stake.

Hermione moaned into Draco's mouth and he bit down gently on her tongue, which only threw oil on the fire inside her. She clenched her eyes shut tightly and sucked his tongue into her mouth. He took the hint and did to her what she'd been doing to him, though with a little more skill.

Hermione felt like she was drowning, but she couldn't fight it. She opened her eyes for a moment out of sheer curiosity and found his eyes closed just as tightly as hers had been. She wondered then for the first time if it really was possible that he was feeling what she was feeling. Dare she hope? Maybe it was possible that she wasn't alone.

But how could that be true…? This was Draco Malfoy. She didn't know what possible reason he could have for kissing her… Could it be true that he felt something for her?

She pulled away from him only enough to speak. "Why?" she whispered.

He opened his eyes and looked questioningly at her. "What?"

"Why are you doing this?"

Draco gazed at her and shook his head, not understanding what she was asking. He leaned in to kiss her again but she pulled back.

He bit his lip and closed his eyes again. "What?"

Hermione didn't know what to say. A thousand thoughts and memories were running through her head. She wanted so much to believe that it was possible that he had feelings for her, and that that was why he was kissing her like this, but the word 'mudblood' was pounding against her skull like a broken record.

"Would you really let me bleed to death?" she asked, dreading the answer.

Draco's eyes snapped open. "What?"

"You said that if you had it to do over again, you'd let me bleed to death. Would you?"

Draco looked momentarily stunned, but it passed quickly, and then he started laughing.

Hermione felt like someone had just dumped ice water on her. She made a quick move to get away from him but he grabbed her arm.

"Where are you going?" he asked, his eyes still laughing.

"Let go of me," she whispered, fighting back tears, taking his laughter to mean that he would, in fact, let her bleed to death.

"No. Get back here," he said with a light chuckle.

Hermione didn't have the strength to fight him. She let her arm go limp and looked at the floor. She felt the tears she'd been fighting spill out of her eyes and saw them splash on the floor by her feet. She was wrecked.

"Hermione, look at me," Draco said, his tone a little more serious this time, as though he was just realizing she was upset.

Hermione shook her head. There was no way she was going to let him see her cry like this.

"Look at me," his voice came from closer. His hand came to the side of her face and turned her so he could look at her. She closed her eyes, refusing to look at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

"Oh Jesus, you were serious?" Draco asked dubiously.

Hermione opened her eyes in surprise. He reached out and stroked the side of her face and she clenched her jaw in belligerence.

"Do you really think I would let you die?" he asked incredulously.

"You're the one that said it!" she said through gritted teeth. She hated it when he treated her like she'd missed something.

"I know, but that was before…Hermione, look at me." He put a hand on either side of her face and she opened her eyes reluctantly.

"I wouldn't let you die. If I had it to do over again, I would do exactly what I did."

Hermione looked into his eyes and knew he was telling the truth. She closed her eyes and let out a shaky sigh, still not wanting to break down and cry. So he didn't want her dead...that didn't mean he had feelings for her.

Draco started laughing again and Hermione stiffened. "You know, for someone as smart as you are, you really are incredibly stupid."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she spat angrily. This was more like it. It was much easier to be angry with him than to feel hurt by him. "You know what, I don't care. If this is another one of your, 'Granger is a stupid hypocrite' speeches, spare me. I don't want to hear it."

"You really don't get it, do you, Granger?"

Hermione stared blankly at him, readying herself for another battle.

Draco stared at her, each moment that passed bringing more disbelief to his eyes.

"You really _don't _get it…"

"Stop saying that!" Hermione snapped. "_And stop laughing!" _

Draco was chuckling in mirth now, and although part of his amusement could be blamed on the residual inebriation, it was like nails on a blackboard.

"I'm sorry Granger…really I am." – Hermione stiffened again, this could be headed nowhere good. – "I just find it funny that Little Miss Perfect can't tell when a guy's in love with her."

**000 **

A/N – I listened to 'Get Another Boyfriend' like 87 times while writing this chapter…don't know if that has any significance. (other than that I have cheesy taste in music)

Ummm, again, I'm sorry you had to wait a week for this chapter. I was pretty much out for the count for three days, but I'm okay now, so I should have the next chapter up soon.

We'll get Draco's point of view and Hermione's reaction in chapter 21!

I'm feeling pretty unsure about this chapter…PLEASE tell me what you think!

REVIEW!

Amanda

8-21-06

**9-26-06**

**I know a lot of you are impatient for chapter 21. I'm working on it currently, but am suffering from that insolent bastard that is writer's block. It's coming, slowly but surely. I really need to step back and organize my outline before I continued. I don't want to let this story get away from me and I feel it's more important to get the story the exact way I want it than to pop a new chapter out as fast as I can write them. So take consolation in knowing that the longer you have to wait for the chapter, the better it will be – at least in my eyes. This story is really important to me and I want to get it right. Your understanding and patience is appreciated.**

**Also, I want to make it very clear that the relationship between Draco and Hermione will continue to develop _slowly._ There will come a point when things speed and heat up, but we're not there yet. Yes, Draco has admitted his feelings, sort of, but it is simply not realistic to think that the relationship between these two would be as easy as that. Still, rest assured this will have a happy ending, and there will be no doubt of just how powerfully they feel for each other by the end. I swear. : )**

**Thanks again for reading. Even if you don't review, it means a lot to me that I have so many people following this story. I'm trying my very best to keep it up to scratch.**


	21. Asking for Promises

_Author's Notes: Well! At _long _last, here it finally is. I've worked very hard on it. It's been through several drafts and changes, and betas, and I'm finally happy with it. I promised I hadn't abandoned the story and I have delivered. Let this be a lesson to those of you who doubted me. I will never abandon this story. I will see it through to the end. I don't think you will have to wait another two months for the next chapter, but if you do, it doesn't mean anything other than that I've got a lot going on. _

So without further ado, I hope you enjoy it. I do hope you find it worth the wait!

**Collide**

**Chapter Twenty One**

**Asking for Promises**

"What did you say?" gasped a wide-eyed Hermione.

'_Can't tell when a guy's in love with you...'  
_

The words seemed to ring in Hermione's head, over and over again - and yet, she couldn't quite take them in. For all the wishing and even praying she'd done that Draco might requite her feelings, actually hearing the words wasn't something she was prepared for.

Draco was still looking at her with an amused expression. For something so momentous as what he'd just spoken, he was being unsettlingly calm about the whole thing.

Hermione thought vaguely that she wouldn't have been able to say those words so casually.

She wondered if he truly meant them.

She wanted to believe him, but Draco was such a complicated person. He could have any number of reasons for his 'declaration.' Could it be that he was playing with her, bating and teasing her - setting her up to fall even harder? If that was what he was doing, Hermione thought it was low, even for him. Still, she wouldn't have put it past him.

But, why? Why would he do it? What did he have to gain from hurting her? - Aside from the obvious pleasure he took from the pain of others. But, that didn't seem like a logical reason to Hermione. They were stuck together and she'd already proved herself capable of making his life a living hell; why would he want to bait her further? Plus, she'd made it just as clear that she didn't want anything to do with him, or, at least, she thought she had. Maybe this was his way of forcing her to pay attention to him. If it was, Hermione did think she could take anything more. Hadn't he put her through enough already?

Just being in the same room with him was painful...

"You heard me, Granger," Draco replied evenly, not breaking eye contact.

Hermione was speechless.

After a long silence filled with Hermione's shallow breathing, Draco started to look uncomfortable.

"Granger?" he said in a trepidacious tone.

Hermione felt panic rising... "Er, I need to go find my –"

She stood from the bed as she spoke and made for the door; she needed to get away...just, away.

But Draco's voice stilled her voice and her feet.

"Granger," he repeated, a little more loudly this time. "Do you have anything to say, or are you just going to pretend it didn't happen?"

"Draco..." - he raised his eyebrows expectantly as she spoke – "I don't...I don't know what to say."

"I just told you I'm in love with you, and you don't know what to say?" Draco said. "There are only two possible responses, Granger."

Hermione bit her lip and considered her words carefully. She knew she loved him. There was no question about it. If she took him at his word, she should have had no problem telling him the truth. But something was holding her back. She was so afraid of...something.

Either he was lying, or he was telling the truth. If he was lying, there was no chance she was going to put herself at his mercy. But how could she know? If he was telling the truth...well, that was just too much to even consider.

Even if he thought he was telling the truth, there was still the fact that he'd drank so much, and the alcohol was still inside him. How could he be sure of anything?

This was dangerous. Hermione felt like her whole world was hanging in the balance.

"You're drunk," she finally said, deciding to play it safe.

Whatever Draco was expecting to hear, this obviously wasn't it.

"I'm drunk?" he repeated. "That's not one of the two possible responses. Either you love me, or you don't. Which is it?"

"You don't know what you're saying," Hermione tried to reason.

"Good Lord, Hermione!" he choked out in frustration. "I'm a little drunk; I'm not delirious!"

He looked right into her eyes as he spoke. "I know exactly what I'm saying. I'm telling you that I'm in love with you. I realized it a few days ago, but I think I've been fighting it for a very long time."

His voice was even and demanding as he continued. "Now, tell me the truth, Granger. I know you feel something. I'm not stupid. I can feel you trembling when you kiss me, and the way you look at me sometimes...I'm not blind. So just tell me."

It would be so easy to give in. She wanted to. She believed he meant what he was saying - it was like he was describing her feelings too. Listening to him, she wanted to do it, to tell him, she truly did. But she couldn't. She looked into his eyes and said the only thing she could; she couldn't bring herself to tell him she loved him, but she wouldn't lie. 

"I can't," whispered Hermione.

"Damn it, Granger!" he snapped in exasperation. "I can only ask so many times. Just tell me!"

Hermione shook her head.

"What are you _still_ afraid of?" he almost yelled.

"I'm not –"

"You _are_ afraid. You're being stupid and you're stubborn to a fault."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest his words but stopped at the look on his face - soft, yet imploring.

"What can I say that you will believe?" he asked. "What can I do?"

"Say it again when you're sober." The words were out of her mouth before she could think about them, but they were true. She loved him, and she wanted to believe he loved her in return, but she needed to be certain. She needed to hear the words at a time when there was nothing he could blame them on later. She needed that confirmation.

Part of her adored his declaration and was terrified that after this, she would never hear it again. If she kept denying him and pushing him, and he was telling the truth, maybe he would give up, or end up hating her. But she felt that this was the only way.

It was better like this. It was worth the risk that he would never say it again, because if he did, it would mean...everything. She couldn't explain why; it just would. She knew she would believe him, whole-heartedly.

If she was being completely honest with herself, she believed him already. But still, she needed this one last thing to be able to let go. In a way, she'd thrown herself at Draco's mercy despite herself. She'd given control to him, something she had wanted to avoid doing. It would probably break her heart if he never said he loved her again, just as much as if he'd been lying all along - _even if_ he'd been lying all along.

She'd given him a weapon. It seemed there was no way around this, though. No matter what she did, she was vulnerable. Whether she liked it or not, Hermione's heart was in Draco's hands.

She just hoped he wasn't clumsy.

For a few moments, Draco just stared at her and she held her breath, hoping she hadn't just ruined everything.

"Granger, this is hard enough as it is. Tell me...something," said Draco quietly.

Hermione bit her lip. She was far out of her depth here, not to mention the fact that Draco's continuing use of her surname was beginning to bother her, given the situation.

"Hermione," she said firmly.

"Pardon?"

"My name is Hermione, Draco."

Ah, much better. Hermione was much more comfortable bossing him around.

"Not Granger," she continued, "or any of the other things you call me. Just Hermione."

She expected him to talk back, but he didn't.

"Fine, Hermione," he said in an irritated tone. "Anything else?"

"What?" she asked, confused by his irritation.

"Oh, please, let me explain," he deadpanned. "I just poured my heart out to you and all you can think to do is scold me. Is there anything else you'd like to say, while you're so talkative?"

She could tell he was hurt. At least, she thought she could. But she couldn't give him what he wanted, not yet.

"Draco, I already told you –" she began uncomfortably.

"Yes, I know..." he said, rolling his eyes. "I know. You think I'm too pissed to think clearly and you want me to tell you I'm in love with you when I'm sober."

Hermione knew better than to say anything to this.

Draco slowly stood from his place on the bed and moved toward Hermione. She felt the familiar tingling in her skin as he came closer, and she had to remind herself to breathe.

There was just something about Draco Malfoy - a presence, even now, in this situation.

Hermione swallowed and forced herself to keep her wits about her as he advanced.

"The thing is, _Hermione, _I'm tired of playing your games."

"What do you mean, 'you're tired of playing my games?'" Hermione said incredulously. "What games? I don't play games."

Draco snorted unkindly at this.

"_You_," Hermione insisted, "are the one who's been toying with _me_."

"_What?_" Draco demanded.

"Half the time, you're treating me like you always have. And then the next thing I know, you're kissing me! I never know what to think!"

Hermione threw her hands into the air in exasperation. But Draco wouldn't give her this one.

"Well now you do know what to think," he said, his arms folded and his body a mere foot from hers. "I've told you the truth, and that's all I can give you. I've just stripped myself naked in front of you, for you, and you've thrown it back in my face. And you want me to do it _again_, when I don't have alcohol to soften the blow? I'm not making any promises, Granger."

Draco made to leave the room, but Hermione moved in front of him, cutting him off before he could get to the door. And before she could think about it, her lips were on his and her hands around his neck, pulling him to her and telling him everything with a kiss that she couldn't say out loud. 

_I love you. I love you. I love you._

Her eyes were closed tightly and every muscle in her body was screaming the words she was too afraid, and yes, too stubborn to say. Her fingers found his hair as her lips and tongue sought response from Draco.

And _respond_ he did. Slowly at first, but his initial surprise quickly melted away and soon he was matching her heat and intensity, hungrily taking what she was giving him and giving her just as much.

Every kiss they'd shared before had been different. The first time, in that alley, it had been all about passion, about giving in to their bodies' needs. The second kiss had been desperate and fierce. The third kiss, the one just minutes previous, had been deep and challenging.

This one was different. This kiss was demanding – the kind of kiss that teaches you about yourself, the kind that completes you.

For the longest time, they clung to each other – giving and taking, pushing and pulling, joining. Hermione stopped thinking entirely, loving the feel of Draco's arms around her and losing herself in the warmth of his mouth, hoping he understood.

And when it became too much and they both needed to breathe, still they held on to each other, unwilling to let go of whatever they had just gained. Somehow, they had reached a silent understanding.

It wasn't words, but Hermione hoped it was enough, at least for now.

"I'm not asking for promises," she said, resting her head against his forehead and stroking her fingers through the hair at the base of his neck. "Just…tell me again, another time."

She pulled back and looked into Draco's steel eyes. She was asking for a lot; she knew that. But when she saw the intensity in Draco's eyes, she let herself believe there was hope for them yet. 

-

Draco's mind was a whirl of thoughts and emotions. As he felt Hermione cling to him, he knew she loved him. It was obvious, in her eyes, in her kiss – even though she wouldn't say it. But, why? Why wouldn't she just say the words? They both knew the truth. It had been hard as hell put himself on the line like he had, mostly but not entirely sure of what her feelings were. Didn't she know that?

Didn't she know how he was suffering?

If _he _could say it, certainly she should be able to say it - she, who was known for wearing her heart on her sleeve in typical Gryffindor fashion. 

She was just being stubborn, he thought. She was so caught up in refusing to give in that she didn't realize that it was the right thing to do, for both of them. Draco felt a twinge of annoyance. But the annoyance turned to reluctant affection as he realized that that was one of the things he loved about Hermione – her strength, her absolute will.

So Draco did understand. She was like him. He had known his feelings for some time before he had been able to let himself voice them. She was the same. She just needed time, and he would give it to her.

And if she wanted him to tell her he loved her again, he could do that too. Something still bothered him, though. Maybe it was the essence of Draco that made him who he was. But, some part of him couldn't let go of the fact that he was willing to figuratively strip naked in front of her and she was still holding back. He loved her, wanted her, and needed her to be with him. Was it too much for him to want her to show the vulnerability he had?

He didn't think so. He stared back into her eyes and furrowed his brow. He didn't know what to say, but he felt he had to say something. Something for her, and something to ease his sense of justice here.

"Hermione, I –"

_Tap tap tap._

Hermione's eyes snapped from his and rested on the window behind him.

"What the…" she muttered as she removed herself from his embrace and crossed to the window to discover the source of the noise. 

Draco wanted to pull her back to him and insist that they continue their…whatever they were in the middle of until _something _was…. resolved, but the moment was gone. He sighed and wondered when they would have the chance to talk again, like they had. Then, he wasn't real sure he wanted to. He rubbed his eyebrows as he turned to watch Hermione. Mostly, he just needed to think. Later, he thought.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Owl," she replied. "From the Ministry…"

"Not again…" he grumbled. The last owl from the Ministry had been the barer of some very bad news.

Hermione shot him a sympathetic half smile before opening the envelope and pulling out a letter. Draco stood patiently for a few moments, his mind only half on their present goings on. 

"Oh, no…" Hermione groaned. "I knew it…"

Draco watched as her face fell into panic. "What is it?" he repeated as he crossed to her.

She bit her lip and handed him the letter. He took it quickly and read.

_Miss Hermione Granger,_

The Ministry of Magic has received word that you have violated the International Statute of Secrecy, by apparating in the direct view of no fewer than nine Muggles.

The memories of said Muggles have been properly modified and you will be required to attend a hearing at the Ministry on the 19th of September, 1997, in the office of Amelia Bones, where your sentence/penalty will be determined.

You will retain your wand, but be warned, Miss Granger – any further infractions and the Ministry will be forced to take more strict measures.

Thomas Kettleburn

_Department of Magical Catastrophes_

Saw that one coming…thought Draco. Well, there was only one thing for it: he would just have to explain what happened to the ministry. He would go with Hermione to her hearing and fix this. They couldn't convict her of anything, not when she had honestly thought his life was in danger, and it just may have been…

"Don't worry about it, Hermione," he said, handing the letter back to her.

"Don't worry about it?" she snapped. "What do you mean, 'don't worry about it?' Easy for you to say – you're not the one in risk of expulsion from wizarding society!"

Draco snorted. "Don't be so dramatic, Granger. They aren't going to banish you for apparating in front of Muggles. Use your brain." – Hermione bristled at this – "They won't convict you anyway; you did what you did on instinct because you thought I was in danger. And even if they did, the worst that would happen is a fine and maybe a restriction on your apparation license for a while."

"Oh, is that all?" she said sarcastically. "You may have money to burn, Draco, but the rest of us mere mortals have limited funds." – Draco rolled his eyes – "And frankly, giving the situation we are currently in, I don't much fancy having my only means to disappear in a hurry "restricted."

She had a point, but still.

"Listen. You're getting ahead of yourself. They aren't going to convict you of anything we me there to back up your story, and I'll be there," he said, giving her a half smile that he hoped was reassuring.

Hermione bit her lip for a moment then said in a quiet voice, "You'll go with me?"

"Of course," he responded, and Hermione visibly relaxed. Draco suddenly needed to touch her, so he did. He grabbed her hand and squeezed it gently, not taking his eyes from hers. She didn't fight him and he was glad. "We can think about this later," he said. "I'm sure your parents are waiting for us. We have more important things to deal with today." 

And with that, he took his wand and cast a quick spell to dress himself, and led Hermione by the hand out of the room. As mixed up as things were between them right now, Draco knew as he held her hand that he wouldn't be able to handle it if something else happened to her, especially, Merlin forbid, something permanent. What if next time he wasn't there to save her? With that thought he gripped her hand tighter and he resolve grew even stronger. They needed to get to the bottom of this attack, and quickly. 

The sooner they were out of danger, the sooner they would be safe to live their lives, Draco hoped, together.

_Later, Draco, think about that later._

000

A/N – Okay. Thoughts? Love it? Hate it? I do hope no one is disappointed, but I'd like to have some feedback no matter what it is. Review!

PS - Thanks a million to Shayeri for her impromptu beta services, you were a marvelous help, babe!

Amanda

10-22-06

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